spective.
hello.
how are you doing?
…
Bang. That set the wheels spinning. I was truckin down a trail in lower Chautauqua here in bTown when a stranger popped that one on me. How am i doing? Hell if I knew. I was running (if you could call it that) 9ish minute miles wondering when in world my damned leg would heal. When could I escape into the mountains with my own legs speedin and heart poundin? When could I make my lungs hurt, my eyes water, and my calves burn? When would I settle on what the next year of my life holds? Let alone the next five. Where the hell am i gonna live? blah blah blah. Such is the life of me. Let me make this clear, I’m not complaining, just sharing. This is part of me, the part I call real confused, the part that was quicky becoming the overwhelming majority.
Huh? Right. Well, on that run I committed to working this thing out, to thinking. An art I often consider extinct in this day and age. It sure as hell seemed to be in my life. But that’s neither here nor there. What is here, is that I frickin realized that I was letting life dictate me, and on that day and on that run I decided that life was sucking out of me what little life i had left. I know that hardly makes any sense at all.
So who is me and what is me and where is me and why is me? Ya, I know - everyone and their mum has wondered that at one point, this is nothing original, not even remotely. But you’re here, and this is me. From that moment on, the little “how are you doing?”, a question not even remotely innocent* catupulted me into much disarray.
Not wanting to risk what little credibility I have with a generic and half hearted pledge to better myself. I’ll leave you with this, I’m trying to figure me and life out. And yeah, since then, I’ve figured a lot out. And yes, I’ve become even more lost. Anyone and there mum could have predicted that too.
What is:
1. I’m not moving to denver. I run in my mountains every day. I can’t leave that.
2. Physical Therapy is fixing me.
3. A friend and I are checking things off a list for this summer, things that make us happy.
* How are you? I’ve banged this around inside of my head for years and finally it slapped me across the face. I honestly don’t think it’s fair or appropriate to ever sneak that into a conversation unless one is prepared for a discussion of depression, angst, happiness, or love. Unless you and the person you’re interacting with have an implicit understanding that neither of you actually care; That you both understand that the question is one of habit more than true inquisition. Yes, I ask all the time, and most the time I don’t really care, sorry. Just a thought.
Filed by ryanroth at July 5th, 2006 under Endurants