(double post since they’re short entries)
I’m currently reading Haruki Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. His words strike a chord with me, and it’s clear that he has undergone a lot of what I experience when I run. The fact that he has made the effort to put it into words has made me want to try to do so, even if I do it poorly. Writing it down forces you to really think about what you’re feeling and seeing when you’re alone in the world, floating through, as he puts it, your void. Thoughts come and go and none stick for too long. Often something I see will spark a train of thought about something seemingly random, but often is more related that I realized (which is why it came to mind in the first place, I imagine). So this writing may only last until I finish the book, but hopefully it will continue on. However, self, you’ve been warned. The urge to describe my experiences may cease as soon as I’ve finished the book, which will most likely be in the next couple of days. Until then…
Editor’s Note: This never happens.
Wednesday December 27, 2011
As I’m coming back along shady lane in the dark, I notice a shadow creeping up beside me with no footsteps. It pulls even with me and kicks on without looking back. I want to catch it, but before I can, it’s disappeared and another one has reappeared at my side, pushing forward as soon as I see it. I run faster. I can’t catch any of them, but I still try. Despite being impossible, I continue on, running faster and faster. My legs don’t notice how fast they’re going, they just want to move. I guess the victory lies in the knowledge that when I have to pass someone in a race, they won’t be able disappear into the night without looking back. They’ll have to fight me every step of the way.