existential embrace
God damn it. Sickness and injury abound. A cold then a sinus infection and now a lower back injury. Do things really happen in threes? And can I articulate a complete thought from my fragmented mind?
And so it is 2008. And eight. Wait. That second sentence makes sense in more ways than one. Still waiting to log my first run of the year. First half marathon coming up in a little over a month and I would like to PB. In fact, I actually PB everyday - unfortunately it goes on my toast in the form of peanut butter.
So what do you know? Why do I write this blog? Lately, the vanity of it has really gotten to me and "gotten" really is a real word. I like the idea of documenting my training but I don't actually seem to be doing that. That begs question, "what am I really doing?" Am I writing it because I am hoping that someone will read it? Am I hoping that someone other than myself will notice that I wrote $31 rather than $31 million? Is this ego masturbation? Why do I insist on writing only interrogative sentences?
I did manage to make a few New Year's resolutions. This would be an appropriate time and place to outline said resolutions. Unfortunately, that is not going to happen. I can't let that happen. Because, you see, you don't really deserve to hear those resolutions. I mean what have you, gentle but lazy and voyeuristic reader, actually ever done for me? Yes, it's true that I have been remiss in updating this blog and yes, it's true that a few of you will occasionally peruse these rambling, but the latter is the cause of the former and the latter simply is not good enough anymore. Nothing ever is for the consumer in us. The consumer of information that insatiably feeds on the electronic alphabet soup of cyberspace and leaves us in our desk chairs, our bodies pudgy and restless and our souls weary. I am you and you are me. And Jamie Lynn is pregnant.
Besides the obvious fact that you likely have no idea what I am talking (and neither do I) you are probably now wondering one of two things: 1) Has he lost his marbles? 2) What do I owe this quack anyways? To the first thought I can only say this: I am not quite sure that I ever had all of my marbles in the first place (and where does that stupid figure of speech come from anyway?). And to the second thought, I offer this: with readership, gentle reader, comes a certain responsibility and a kind of personal debt for the temporary keeping of the wanderlustful, inquisitive mind. As a reader, one must trust a writer, not unlike a guide, to take oneself on a journey of the mind and imagination and the debt that a reader owes is his/hers full attention and commitment to see the journey through to the end. Now, perhaps you are not looking for that kind of time here. Maybe you are just looking for the cold, hard facts. Julian ran 15km in 65 minutes at an average heart rate of 150 bpm. He felt tired and his calves were cramping. His mind was wondering. Well, maybe this ain't your cup of john (that's right "john"; it makes as much sense as "joe") then. If transparency and facts are what you are looking for maybe you should just pick up a copy of the Vancouver Sun and get your daily dose of the Facts. The Truth. You're not gonna find it here.
And so it is 2008. And eight. Wait. That second sentence makes sense in more ways than one. Still waiting to log my first run of the year. First half marathon coming up in a little over a month and I would like to PB. In fact, I actually PB everyday - unfortunately it goes on my toast in the form of peanut butter.
So what do you know? Why do I write this blog? Lately, the vanity of it has really gotten to me and "gotten" really is a real word. I like the idea of documenting my training but I don't actually seem to be doing that. That begs question, "what am I really doing?" Am I writing it because I am hoping that someone will read it? Am I hoping that someone other than myself will notice that I wrote $31 rather than $31 million? Is this ego masturbation? Why do I insist on writing only interrogative sentences?
I did manage to make a few New Year's resolutions. This would be an appropriate time and place to outline said resolutions. Unfortunately, that is not going to happen. I can't let that happen. Because, you see, you don't really deserve to hear those resolutions. I mean what have you, gentle but lazy and voyeuristic reader, actually ever done for me? Yes, it's true that I have been remiss in updating this blog and yes, it's true that a few of you will occasionally peruse these rambling, but the latter is the cause of the former and the latter simply is not good enough anymore. Nothing ever is for the consumer in us. The consumer of information that insatiably feeds on the electronic alphabet soup of cyberspace and leaves us in our desk chairs, our bodies pudgy and restless and our souls weary. I am you and you are me. And Jamie Lynn is pregnant.
Besides the obvious fact that you likely have no idea what I am talking (and neither do I) you are probably now wondering one of two things: 1) Has he lost his marbles? 2) What do I owe this quack anyways? To the first thought I can only say this: I am not quite sure that I ever had all of my marbles in the first place (and where does that stupid figure of speech come from anyway?). And to the second thought, I offer this: with readership, gentle reader, comes a certain responsibility and a kind of personal debt for the temporary keeping of the wanderlustful, inquisitive mind. As a reader, one must trust a writer, not unlike a guide, to take oneself on a journey of the mind and imagination and the debt that a reader owes is his/hers full attention and commitment to see the journey through to the end. Now, perhaps you are not looking for that kind of time here. Maybe you are just looking for the cold, hard facts. Julian ran 15km in 65 minutes at an average heart rate of 150 bpm. He felt tired and his calves were cramping. His mind was wondering. Well, maybe this ain't your cup of john (that's right "john"; it makes as much sense as "joe") then. If transparency and facts are what you are looking for maybe you should just pick up a copy of the Vancouver Sun and get your daily dose of the Facts. The Truth. You're not gonna find it here.
posted by Julian at
9:42 PM
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