How to Get in Shape
"...the universal impulse to believe, that is the material circumstance, and is the principal fact in the history of the globe." -- R.W. Emerson, "Experience"
Not belief, but the impulse to believe.
Not our precious and polished knick knacks of thought, cluttering the house of the mind. Not the desire to be happier, faster, fitter. Instead -- the gut that yanks us out, over and against the plans of our better selves.
Not the goals that we have, not the PRs we've run, but the thrill in the neck, the ache in the hamstrings, the sideways glance to hold him off, or to die.
Not the workout on paper, not the feeling of completion. Not the endless entries in the training log. The sand in your shoulders at the end of a race. Not the setting of the alarm clock, not the morning coffee. The weak winter sunrise, the breath in the air, the wet and frozen dew.
Not the training philosophies, not the books and coaches and blogs and message board bull. Not the miles per week, not the workouts. The grind, the fire, the slump, the legs that won't go.
Not the things you tell your friends and your family. Not the things you tell yourself. The things you can't say, the things that can't be said. The things you don't even know you could say. Not the shoes, not the clothes, not the body, not the mind. The beast, the bird, the antelope.
Not the selves we know, not the people we are. The bones, the grit, the dread, the relief.
Not religion, not argument, not logic, not truth. Acid, ache, stomach, heart.
Not belief, but the impulse to believe.
Not belief, but the impulse to believe.
Not our precious and polished knick knacks of thought, cluttering the house of the mind. Not the desire to be happier, faster, fitter. Instead -- the gut that yanks us out, over and against the plans of our better selves.
Not the goals that we have, not the PRs we've run, but the thrill in the neck, the ache in the hamstrings, the sideways glance to hold him off, or to die.
Not the workout on paper, not the feeling of completion. Not the endless entries in the training log. The sand in your shoulders at the end of a race. Not the setting of the alarm clock, not the morning coffee. The weak winter sunrise, the breath in the air, the wet and frozen dew.
Not the training philosophies, not the books and coaches and blogs and message board bull. Not the miles per week, not the workouts. The grind, the fire, the slump, the legs that won't go.
Not the things you tell your friends and your family. Not the things you tell yourself. The things you can't say, the things that can't be said. The things you don't even know you could say. Not the shoes, not the clothes, not the body, not the mind. The beast, the bird, the antelope.
Not the selves we know, not the people we are. The bones, the grit, the dread, the relief.
Not religion, not argument, not logic, not truth. Acid, ache, stomach, heart.
Not belief, but the impulse to believe.
ah, you are a poet. that is good stuff, jeff.
ReplyDeleteThanks, ace.
DeleteFood for thought most definitely!
ReplyDeleteneti, neti..
ReplyDeleteLove it! Nagarjuna as a runner
Nice
ReplyDeletenike roshe run
ReplyDeletetrue religion outlet
true religion jeans
louis vuitton outlet
jordan 13
polo ralph lauren
kate spade handbags
coach outlet store online clearances
christian louboutin outlet
fitflops
nike store
giuseppe zanotti sneakers
jordans
hollister clothing store
hollister outlet
hollister kids
nike free run
michael kors purses
jordan 6
jordan retro
kobe bryant shoes
timberland boots
ray ban sunglasses
air max 90
ghd hair straighteners
louis vuitton outlet
jordan shoes
louis vuitton outlet
ray ban outlet
adidas originals
kobe 9
nike basketball shoes
jordan 11s
insanity workout
michael kors outlet
longchamp handbags
coach outlet
coach outlet
tory burch outlet
adidas shoes
20166.7wengdongdong