Running Into Things

I ran in­to near rush-hour traf­fic this morn­ing on the way to work and then dis­cov­ered that many peo­ple must have de­cid­ed that Monday was get to work ass-ear­ly just like Adam day. Yesterday, I ran to the li­brary and picked up a cou­ple of books, [The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. LeGuin and The Silence in Heaven by Peter Lord-Wolff] and my lim­it of three DVDs, all for­eign. I nabbed Chushingura — Hana no maki yuki no maki [a short­er ver­sion of the same sto­ry in The 47 Ronin, and this one has Toshiro in it]; The 400 Blows [Criterion Collection DVD, w00t!]; and Ren? Clair’s ? nous la lib­ert?. While run­ning pri­or to that, I ran in­to some dog shit and it ran with me for the rest of my run. Or, at least it ran with me un­til I ran in­to a big suck­ing mud pud­dle and al­most lost a hoof. Before that, I ran nowhere be­cause I was still re­cov­er­ing from run­ning in­to a wall on Saturday af­ter­noon when the falafel I’d had Saturday morn­ing de­cid­ed to run around in my in­testi­nal tract. I had done some run­ning on Saturday whilst si­mul­ta­ne­ous­ly throw­ing a fris­bee as well.

Why am I al­ways run­ning every­where? I should take the time to stop and smell the trees/​bushes that grow along 77 and 90 and are there [in my the­o­ry] to cut the smell of the foundry/​steel mill/​chemical pro­cess­ing fa­cil­i­ty just past them. They smell fa­mil­iar but I’m not sure what they are, ex­act­ly. When I ac­tu­al­ly go run­ning my work­out con­sists of run­ning and then walk­ing and then run­ning and then walk­ing and then run­ning and then walk­ing again. Not very dis­ci­plined. I fig­ure, how­ev­er, that if I just ex­tend the amount of time my work­out takes, then I will even­tu­al­ly be able to cut out most of the walk­ing. I will end this en­try abrupt­ly.

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