Running. With Boom Boom Boom.

~ Live & Learn

Train-snow-winter-steam

6:30 am.
27° F.  Sunny.
It’s Day 9.
9 straight days of sinus headaches. Nasal drips. Hacking. Energy levels not firing. Fatigue. Blahhhhh.
9 straight days of rotation between bed, couch and Kleenex box. And, this party is not yet over.
ENOUGH.
I gear up and head out the door. Time to man-up.
Croupy cough. Unshoveled sidewalks. Black Ice. All be damned.
This train is coming.

I’m flickin’ through my playlist. Bocelli? No. Click. Handel? No. Click. John Legend? No. Click. Sade? No. Click. Peter Gabriel? Solsbury Hill. Stop.

↓ click for audio (Peter Gabriel:  “Solsbury Hill”)

Climbing up on Solsbury Hill
I could see the city light
Eagle flew out of the night
He was something to observe

My pace quickens. That’s right. This Eagle is flying.
Sun sparkling on the snow layered with the morning frost.
Geese, out of the water, perched on rocks in the cove.
Even cold for their a**es. (Wonder if geese get hemorrhoids?)

My heart going boom boom boom

Winded.
The Eagle is wheezing. Nasal passages clogged.
First one nostril. Then the next.
Firing out a thick red stream of nasty.
Pleased with myself that the crud didn’t ooze down the front of my jacket.

My friends would think I was a nut
Turning water into wine

Mind rotates to this morning’s weigh-in.
9 days of sharp caloric reduction driving weight to a 20-year low.
Light amid the darkness.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

Came in close, I heard a voice
Standing stretching every nerve
Had to listen had no choice
I did not believe the information
(I) just had to trust imagination

I look in the mirror.
Taking inventory.
Hair with Rooster Tail. No shower in 2 days. Sad Sack.
Receding hair line. Thin white hairs appear on ears. Puffs of hair on both shoulders. Tilt my head back to look up nostrils – – land needing deforestation.
Cosby had joked: “Instead of growing hair on my head, I now was growing it in places where I didn’t need it.”
Yep, I’ve arrived.
Man-boobs where pecs used to be.
Bones where Biceps resided.
Biceps slump to donuts over elbows.
Hang Belly rolling over the towel.
The Big Slide is underway.

My heart going boom boom boom

I’m coming up on an elderly man, all bundled up, walking towards me.
He stops to let me pass, offering a warm smile.
We exchange good mornings.
That’s me in a few years. On my morning walk. Hopefully aging with equal kindness and grace.

Wind was blowing, time stood still.
My heart going boom boom boom

I finish my run.
I’m in the bathroom back in front of the mirror.
I take my hat off.
Hair is wet and matted flat to skull.
Steam is rising from my head.
Brad Pitt turned 50 yesterday.
Friend, you ain’t no Brad Pitt.

Time Check: 5.75 miles. 54.05 minutes.

Nap Time.

30 thoughts on “Running. With Boom Boom Boom.”

  2. You made my day dear David, Thank you, it was so nice to remember this and sing with him and dance with him… and I haven’t seen this video too, how amazing show… I wanted to ride a bike and sing with him 🙂 Love, nia

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  3. Am I the only one who is laughing??? Lol!!! David, you are so funny…I can’t even choose the funniest line in this post this time. Glad for the “light amid the darkness”…and I do hope you feel better soon.

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  6. Fine work, David, despite the aching muscles and sodden, snot-laden snout. 😉 This style of writing is clearly your metier….just love these posts. But don’t push yourself too hard, ok pal. Ya want to be in fighting form for Christmas dinner and all it entails… 🙂

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  7. A great post, David, and I concur with everybody above who has posted a comment … I really enjoyed the imagery you presented and identified with much of it as well, and I am not even sick! Hope you get better soon, and thanks for the uplifting Peter Gabriel tune as well. Take care …

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  11. Yaah, man, back on that *horse*! Instead of losing weight while I was sick, I gained. Foul! Cheat! I demand a recount!
    Anyhoo, seriously, this post rocks. I flipped the song on immediately and read the whole post with it playing. You absolutely caught the rhythm. And the back and forth canter between you and the lyrics is pure poetry. Who needs Brad Pitt when David’s in the House?

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