fireplaces and iron ons

People love chopping wood. In this activity one immediately sees results.
Albert Einstein

per some motivating friends and a personal itch, I have decided that days are easier spent working toward something rather than nothing at all. it is simply a matter of identifying what my something is. is it the moment I push the door open to leave work; is it eating my favorite baked chips without sharing a single one; yoodling under an underpass; waiting 355 days for my birthday, and then not doing anything; chopping my own wood.

last time I checked, there wasn't a load of fireplace-ready wood on my doorstop when I returned from a run. but my inner craze tells me I might just get an immediate result on my doorstop the day I push myself to do something I thought I could not.

so when should you plan on waking up too early on a weekend and putting on your KATHLEEN IS AWESOME t-shirt (or a homemade Flight of the Conchords one) just to stand out in the cold for an extended and boring period of time? not tomorrow. or next month. or the month after. in fact, given the look on my face after 3.1 miles, I'd say you have about 5 months or more to prep those shirts.

accessorizing

I bought a running hat the other day. it makes me feel really special. even when I don't wear it - just the fact that I own one is excellent, party time. it just screams RUNNER despite how much I am not.

and when I was daydreaming about my new hat while at work the other day I remembered, I have an iPod. and I have an arm band. break that sucker out along with my new nike swish sweat-wicker sun-blocker and we're talking a possible couple of seconds taken off of my running time simply due to my stylish outfit points.

first things first in this trek to increase speed by way of expensive accessories: I need new tunes. I've had the same Madonna, Decemberists, and Radiohead voices yelling at my brain since back when treadmills were my friends and my guns were so big they had their own shadows. so I hit the PC and set out to download some new inspirations to rock my body.

15 downloaded hip songs later and Nick walks in on me dancing to Fergie talking about her fitness, so delicious, fergilicious.

unless I plan on dancing in my running hat in the middle of my trail, this may not be a good idea afterall.

name game

today, whilst resting on the john, my toes looked incredibly tan. maybe it was the lighting. the tile floor. or the tanning bed trips that I recently stopped. but why was I barefoot in the bathroom at work with the candlestick?

changing clothes for my daily run of course. and thinking of something else other than the musical contributions of my stall mates.

30 minutes later out on the trail with my stand-in running buddy, I'm playing the name game for the first time. I'm no longer grunting yes or no answers in response to my chatty, high-spirited, and extremely in-shape partner rather, I'm spouting out names of famous people with my huffing, puffing, and slowly turning red temp buddy.*

what's the name game I hear you whisper to yourself? I say Will Smith, you say Sean Penn. I say Paul Newman, you say Norm McDonald. and on and on it goes until he says Bill Cosby and my brain freezes. we hit our destination, flip a bitch, and I dust him.

with no buddy to hear panting next to me, no buddy to hear the leaves crunching under his/her feet, and no buddy to outrace if I see a mountain lion, I turn in to Snow White. not because I immediately adopted 7 dwarves or pulled a narcolepsy tantrum, but because I looked for my quails, my deer, my wild turkeys, my little bunnies with their white butts that remind me of that white spot above my own ass - all to help me distract myself from my lungs. and my little homies were nowhere. probably keeping warm in their little nests and burrows.. chuckling to themselves while they watch me struggle, or hiding from simba who's waiting around the corner. little fuckers. some Disney movie THAT run was.

I continued looking for them until before I knew it, I was almost done. hauled balls to my personal marker of which stopping beforehand would keep me up at night and stopping past it would create a feeling similar to pouring vodka on an open cut on my left lung. after finishing, I immediately turn around and walk back to find my temp buddy and make sure he followed the correct yellow brick dusty road amongst the many yellow brick dusty roads.

I spot him. and shout "COREY FELDMAN!"

*Mitch, you did a great job. Thanks for pushing yourself for my sake and, I will see you tomorrow out there.

some day

All you people with motivational issues, nice to meet you. You there, the one without goals, me TOO. Need more monkeys but, that's the whole barrel?* I find myself in that situation a lot.

In The Beginning, of this long Thanksgiving weekend, I ran my first 5k. The remainder of the leftover-weekend was spent deliberating. I imagined a new job and began writing my article for Women's Health magazine - I don't work for them but, I may some day. I ran hills until I stopped - I'm not a runner but, I may be some day. I signed up for a second 5k three days after my first and I did not go - I'm not committed but, I may be some day.

Some day a motive. Some day a goal. Some day an exponential amount of barrels of monkeys.

In all my 'some day' rage from the weekend, I sent a note out to a woman who had an essay featured in Women's Health and followed that with hours of anticipation. She fell in to that - what I consider - insane group of people who run for fun. But she began her essay as I begin this story - she thought people who ran for fun were nuts. And yet there she went, training for 5 months before running a half marathon - crazy lady. Well, she replied and made a very good attempt at making me believe not that nothing is impossible, but rather that Impossible is Nothing.

And while her words are inspiring, I can't help but notice the focus is on what is POSSIBLE and not what is REALISTIC. Call me pessimistic, call me weak-spirited, unambitious, apathetic... I am not a motivational speaker. My feelings will not be hurt. But, and maybe this is a step for mankind in and of itself, I won't believe Impossible is Nothing until I've felt it with my own feet and lungs.

Some day.

*Mr. Potato Head "We need more monkeys!". Mrs. Potato Head "That's the whole barrel!".