Ran this morning. Up and down the Lyon street stairs, not to ragged exhaustion mind you, but with introspection. Run and run until my chest started to tighten, then torn. My body shouts at me for mercy when I run, threatening heart attack or aneurysm. My throat opens up, huffing hard, while calves and thighs cry for relief.
I'd stop running until I missed the huffing, crying, ache in me. Missing that pain... I'm sure four out of five Men of the Circle of Men would call that a good pain. I'd imagine, at 75, that I'll jog right on by the bad pain when it comes for me.
I want to run until I'm running, then my body calls out for cease & desist of this infernal running...hilarious.
17 May 2007
Turning old tools into new tricks
Ran this morning. Up and down the Lyon street stairs, not to ragged exhaustion mind you, but with introspection. Run and run until my chest started to tighten, then torn. My body shouts at me for mercy when I run, threatening heart attack or aneurysm. My throat opens up, huffing hard, while calves and thighs cry for relief.
I'd stop running until I missed the huffing, crying, ache in me. Missing that pain... I'm sure four out of five Men of the Circle of Men would call that a good pain. I'd imagine, at 75, that I'll jog right on by the bad pain when it comes for me.
I want to run until I'm running, then my body calls out for cease & desist of this infernal running...hilarious.
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