My food-spirit animal is a pickle because that is continually what I find myself in.
There is a reason they call in PNWonderland. Just had the most amazing five days in lovely Washington state. Drove to the edge of the continent and back, trekked on beaches and through rain forests. Spent time with a new friend who could maybe convince a girl to stay.
Life is what happens when you are busy making plans, right?
Yesterday was a glorious Thursday, one where I fully crushed funemployement.
I did the daily run followed by the daily writing. Then I met two friends at Golden Gardens and hung out on the beach in the sun. Then we got tacos (and saw Hot Pete!). After that I went to Capitol Hill and hung out with some new hilarious people, saw a rock show and was safe in bed by midnight.
Thursday for the win.
Seattle, you’re making it hard to help a girl decide if she want’s to stay or leave. Across my day of activities with new and old friends I found certain topics presenting themselves time and time again, and it got me thinking.
When did we stop taking care of each other?
Who has two thumbs and a playlist full of dirges?
This girl.
On today’s run around a deliciously sunny Seattle I made the executive decision that irregardless of what happens in the next month or so with my life/job/love situations I need to freshen up my running playlist stat. The current mix is frankly more suited for soggy grey days and jaunts through the rain.
With this extra time on my hands I decided to cash in some miles and take a little trip next week. Guess where?
Last night I sat on my front porch with my roommate and we discussed the state of our affairs. I have been spending a lot of time stressed out lately which translates to lying on my back on the living room rug and staring at the ceiling. I asked her, “How do you deal with stress?” What is her dream move to deal with issues?
Clearly, I run, and surely if I wasn’t I would spend a lot more time starfished on the floor. My roommate listed off her methodologies for processing feelings and it made me wonder. Why does an arbitrary force of urgency take over when there is obviously nothing to do but go with the flow?
I mean, everything that needs to happen will happen, right?
Just because you want something doesn’t mean you can have it. This is a lesson I have learned time and time again. I have also discovered that while you can ask for something, it doesn’t necessarily mean you will get it. With every fork I encounter I continually ask the universe to send me clues about what to do, but at the end of each day I have to proceed on the base of my own deductive reasoning and judgement and try to make the choice that is right for me.
If you don’t try you’ll never know, but gosh if only we had a little help, right?
This might be harder than I thought it would be. Running is the easy part. Collecting and distributing my *contemplative and eloquent* insights, a bit of a challenge. Turns out not all my thoughts are deep or actually worthy of translation into text.
Nonetheless, she persisted.
For a girl that refuses to wear a watch I sure spend a lot of my energy thinking about time. More valuable than money, its finite yet not concrete. And I, in my most optimistic internal narrative know, with this unemployment I just may have received a tiny gift of time.
Want to have an existential crisis? Tell people you are starting a blog where you write about your thoughts while running then go running and think about what kind of thoughts you want to have about running while you are running.
Or for this first experiment, think about your most recent Tinder date.
A proven scientific fact I just made up- a nice long run can help solve any problem. Lost your job? Take eight miles and think about what you really want to do next. Cat ran away? A nice five-mile sprint around the neighborhood counts as looking for that little butthead. Stressed about relationship woes? Take a breather and a 10-mile jog to gain some perspective. No matter what issue I’ve been facing I’ve found for the past half my life (mind you, I’m in my 30’s- we’re looking at 15+ years) there is nothing better than a few miles of pavement (or trails as I’ve started to go easier on my knees) to work through whatever shit is on my mind.
Beauty of the Road 