My body is sore, pain that is days old creeps through my knees and my back. A tiredness that seems ages old pulls on my eyelids, and makes even the most mundane tasks hard. I snarl and bark every time I stand up, and creak and grunt every time I go to sit down. I don’t mind though. Sore happens. I’m 44 and I push my body harder now than I did 25 years ago, and I’m stronger and faster now than I was then. Today’s soreness speaks volumes about how badly I treat myself now as a reaction to how badly I treated myself back then but I won’t speak to that right now.
I pay a price for doing this to myself.
I understand that. Doesn’t make the soreness in my left ankle or my right hamstring, or the tingling that runs through my left hand every single time I run any easier, but I don’t let it bother me.
Just writing about me for me, to speak for myself about myself, here where I can speak my piece in peace, essentially undisturbed.
The music that wafts through my headphones seems a bit flat for some reason. Maybe it’s because it’s Bruce Springsteen, an artist whom I don’t often listen to, and barely tolerate most days. The song is “The Ghost of Tom Joad”, a song I first listened to played by Rage Against the Machine. To be honest I prefer the Rage version. Harder, angrier, edgier, stronger, and that fits the words of the song. The music is violent, a punch in the gut, where Bruce’s version is quiet, too quiet. But I like it nonetheless. The message doesn’t get lost in the quiet music that Bruce tosses out, even though the words beg for the strong scream that rage gives it.
Can’t tell you why I felt the need to write that, except to say that the song resonates, the words dance a seductive dance in my cranium.
Thanksgiving having just passed a day ago, I thought I’d write about things I am thankful for here. I’d have done it yesterday, but Thanksgiving is actually about traveling to see family, eating copious amounts of food, and watching football with the family extended. If you can feel thankful about that, you’re a better man than I, Gunga Din.
I am thankful:
that I’m still alive.
that my wife loves me, and I love her.
that all of my family, brothers and parents are still alive.
that I have a job, even if it is not always reliable for 40 hours a week.
that I wasn’t stupid enough to head out with the maniacs on “Black Friday.”
that I’m not so close minded to think that people of other political stripes can’t be right on occasion, even on subjects I feel diametrically opposed to them on.
that I’m not so open-minded to think that people of other political stripes can be right any more than very, very occasionally.
that the German economy hasn’t gone belly up… yet … give it a few months. They’re next on the euro-zone contagion list, after Belgium collapses.
that the American economy hasn’t imploded. Yet.
that I don’t drink anymore. Alcohol is expensive and bad for the head.
that I don’t smoke anymore. I can find healthier ways to smell funny in public.
that I am an everyday runner. Just passed the 1850 mile mark on the year, might make two thousand miles if I keep it up. That’d be nice.
that I still play guitar most days. Sucks that I don’t play every day, but I’m OK with playing whenever I can. Better than not playing.
that the world I inhabit has tolerant people in it. I am not the easiest person in the world to deal with, somedays.
that I lived to hear Metallica play an acoustic version of Disposable heroes. Most excellent stuff.
that…. is all for now.
That’s it from here, America. Gnight.