The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions as I've settled into a new life after a year pretty much took it captive. A year not necessarily wasted because without it, I may not have ever pursued my current goal. Before that year, I never thought I could. So in a way, it's a year I'm thankful for and a year that has certainly made me stronger and realize what I will not take and my actual potential. In the grand scheme of things, it was a kick in the ass. But up close? I still wouldn't walk across the street to piss on him if he was on fire.

We're stepping into the beginning of autumn but here in Florida summers breath still holds ferth. It makes me long to pack up and move to the mountains. Disregard responsibilities and set forth to higher ground with warmer leaves and cooler air.

I've been running more. I let my long runs slip in the midst of the move and fall semester. I felt myself going stir crazy. My body was anxious and my joints were grinding against each other. My body was metaphorically chomping at the bit. I think it's what a puppet must feel like; stiff, cramped, and dusted. I needed to unfold, stretch, and dust the spiderwebs from the neurons in my brain. I needed free thinking and I needed a lot of ground.

And I needed discovery.

So, I hit the road and this time there wasn't a set running path, there wasn't a set goal, there wasn't a set distance or time; there was my asics, a few hours of battery left on my ipod, and me. I ended up running around five miles before I decided I'd given the holy terrors ample time to drool, knock over, urinate, or generate tumbleweeds of hair the size of texas in my house. Besides, I dived in at the hottest time of the day and Florida showed little mercy. The next day I repeated it.
Five miles is pretty pitiful. Even though it was five invigorating, feverish, perpetual miles. It whithers in respcet to my other runs. None the less it was five miles that wasn't there before. When I got home I couldn't wait to go back. I wanted to right then. Irresponsible.

I obsess and I'm obsessing over the next three weeks. It'll either turn out with the best results ever (read, healthiest) or a complete failure.But I feel like it's needed because it's a last hoorah over getting one up. Over having something to hold onto. It's complicated. Pretty messed up. And slightly more painful.
And somehow, hopefully, I'll reach a few small accomplishments in the process. Or at least make headway.