Running. With Flaubert.

~ Live & Learn

clock-fitness-workout-weight

Let’s frame up the mood this morning.

I step on and off the scale. It could be worse. What’s of greater concern is the lack of disgust. Why not just paint a large white flag on the belly and add in large font: “Yes, I quit.” Middle aged man on the down side.

It’s 8:00 am. Zeke and I are laying in bed and I’m scanning the morning papers. It wasn’t so long ago that I would have run 10 miles by 8:30 am and be done with breakfast.  Now, I’m just thinking about breakfast.

The ladies of the house are off to Yoga. Men don’t do Yoga. This man anyway. Too many sweaty bodies in close proximity. Lululemon pants exposing things I don’t need to see. Rubber mats. Rubber room. Claustrophobia. Get me out of here.

Earlier in the week, Rachel pointed out that I’m wearing a track suit (expandable waist) with increasing frequency.  I brush her off but the hit is direct, the wound lingers.

Yes, I’ve become  Abigail Thomas‘ large and growing Inaction Figure: Torpor. Languor. Stupor.

The lack of disgust hasn’t fully evaporated, it looms like a low lying nimbostratus cloud. I take inventory of the last night’s feeding. Chicken salad, plus Burrito. Banana. Potato chips. Yogurt laced with Grape Jelly. Almonds. Pita bread. And several trips to the pantry for bite-sized Hersey Special Dark Miniatures with Almonds.  Miniatures. Right. It’s called alchemy. Miniature turns to Massive after 8 of them.  And hiding the wrappers deep in the trash can? Who’s fooling who here?

I continue scanning the morning papers and note a book review of Lenoir’s ‘Happiness‘ where the reviewer asks: “Was Flaubert right when he wrote that stupidity, selfishness and good health ‘are three requirements for happiness, though if stupidity is lacking, all is lost?'”

I roll out of bed. Gather my gear and head out for a run with Zeke. It’s 57° F. Spring. Finally. A spectacular day. There are cool breeze gusts flash drying the sweat and keeping the chassis cool.  Yet, Flaubert is ever close. Stupidity, selfishness and good health.

I am bloody happy. Very happy actually. Sweet Jesus Flaubert!

Time Check: 5.3 miles. 51 minutes.

Nap time.

Notes:

38 thoughts on “Running. With Flaubert.”

  3. Great writing Dave, you are far too honest ha! Still a thousand miles begins with one run (Step) and you will definitely feel more motivated now that Spring has sprung! You motivate us all expressing a “real life story.” 🙂

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  4. My former neighbor an Olympic runner would encourage you to keep running! I will not cop to how many eggless banana -sunflower choc. chip cookies I ate in my war with the lure of carbs, today. (wonderful recipe)

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          1. I just asked Cody and he’s never heard of them…and he’s taken yoga. I just sent a message to Jason, who is taking yoga now. Is that Lululemon…as in Lulu Lemon? Sheesh…Lulu Lemon Pants. Do they also make Olga Orange Pants?

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      1. Oh my goodness, I am laughing! I don’t do that…much as I kind of wanted to try and convince you and thus be in solidarity. I was sharing my enjoyment of your admission my friend!

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