Running. To 7:20 am.

running-black-white

It’s 2:44 am.
A Full Moon.
Its lambent lighting caresses the earth’s surface.

Parched.
I trudge downstairs.
Hands greedily reach for ice water.

Eyes pan down to the second shelf.
I reach for the container and lift out two of the largest.
Driscoll’s Finest Raspberries from Watsonville, CA.
The tongue savors the sweet nectar from the red drupelets.

On to unfinished business.
A partially started, uninspiring mess of words following yesterday’s run.
Old fruit aging in the back of the crisper.
I drag the cursor down to select the entire passage.
And hit Delete to bury it.

It was 6:51 am. Yesterday.
I was half way through the run.
It came as a Mind-Pop.
I need to get back by 7:20 am.
But I’m too far out on this loop.
I must get back by 7:20 am.

A steep hill. Three miles. 27 minutes.

It’s 7:18 am.
I sit on the front stoop.
I twist out my ear buds.
Sweat streams down, leaving a shadow on the concrete.
My chest is pounding.
A cough works itself up from deep in the lower belly.
And coats my throat with bile.
I’m too old for this sh*t.

She walks out the door at 7:20.
Bag over her shoulder.
“Good Morning!”
“Hi, Dad.”
“Honey, nice dress, but short.”
“Come on Dad. I need to catch the train. I’ll be late for work.”

Miles: 5.75 miles
Time Check: Nap Time.


Post inspired by:

One night soon after we’d moved into our new house in New Hampshire…holding hands with my husband and sons, saying grace – even though on this night it was a slightly congealed pizza and a hasty sale for dinner, and no one at the table was feeling particularly happy or affectionate – I had a sudden thought: “But tonight, we are all here, together, and it will not always be so.

~ Katrina Kenison, Magical Journey, An Apprenticeship in Contentment


Notes:

Comments

  1. “it will not always be so.” Love your writing Mr Kanigan and no… you are not too old for this …..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Love the love ❤️
    Hope you had a good nap old timer 😉

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 2:44? 2:44! I take a breath before laying into to you, because what else is an insomniac to do but use that awakeness? Excellent and stunning use of that awakeness, mister.

    “Drupelets” What a fabulous word! A perfect onomatopoeia (I had to look that one up, too, just so you know).

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Your writing compares well with Driscoll’s Finest. Inspired drupelets. But the “too old for…” is an excuse aging in the back of the crisper.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love makes all things possible, including running when the body says no thanks!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. David, I couldn’t resist. The data you have given us suggests ( I think, happy to be proved wrong, I am innumerate after all), that you ran the last half at 12 mph. I Googled this to see how fast that is. This is what I found:

    “12 mph for 20 minutes. You are talking about running at the pace of a top high school runner. It’s not impossible but unless you have a lot of talent your are probably going to have to train for a couple years before you can run this fast. In my opinion it doesn’t make sense to run this hard on a treadmill as you may have an unscheduled exit off of the rear of the treadmill. If you are in a health club others may eye you suspiciously as you frantically gasp for air, spit, wheeze, etc.”

    Respect, mister. as ever.

    Like

    • Laughing. Can always count on my fact checker from across the pond to keep me honest. 3 miles / 26 minutes is 8.66 minutes per mile. Suspect in my stupor, that I may have rounded down and it was 3 miles in 27 minutes which makes it a 9 min mile – which is definitely not in the class of a top high school runner or even a senior runner my age. I have since corrected the time reference above. Thanks for the catch Michael.

      Like

  7. David, I love your writing!

    And your conversation with your daughter reminded me of my father. That’s always his line to me!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. love the public figure quote. i understand it perfectly. i’ve also been on both sides of the daughter/parent hill and understand that too. i give you credit for just getting out there, wish you didn’t feel the need to run against yourself, your most merciless and toughest opponent, and could just run for the joy of it (is this possible?), and for some basic health and mind benefits. but then that’s not really you, dk. you are a man of intensity.

    Liked by 1 person

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