6.01 Miles, 55 degrees cool and overcast.
29 days into this project. Actually 31, if you count the warm up days. Almost done. Are you going to miss me?
Had the Mexicali Blues running through my head while I was out this morning.
Is there anything a man don’t stand to lose,
When the devil wants to take it all away?
Cherish well your thoughts, and keep a tight grip on your booze
Cause thinkin and drinkin are all I have today.
Ended up with 6 miles because I spaced out on a turn. I know, “Chris, you’ve been running these trails for 20 years how did you space a turn?” Maybe you never have experienced this but when I run in the woods I lose myself in thought. I forget I’m running. The running is just some autonomous byproduct that pumps blood into my detached brain. Then I wake up and notice I’m not where I’m supposed to be! Personally, that’s why I love a good run. I love that mental detachment fueled by the physical process. It’s a form of moving meditation.
Lots of animals out this morning. Bunch of rabbits in the meadows. One was in the trail in front of me and for some reasons didn’t want to leave the trail. He (or she) would hop ahead a few meters, look back, see me grinding up the trail, and hop ahead again and repeat. Then I flushed a bevy of quail. I don’t see quail very often in my woods. It took me a minute to pattern match what they were.
(Note: I think bevy is the right term for a flock of quail. I was going to use ‘brace’ but apparently that only applies to dead quail that have been hunted)
This wet spring has all the flora and fauna procreating with abandon. And I the grand old oak tree watching over it all.
I stubbed my toe yesterday. Wasn’t looking at the trail and kicked a log. Didn’t fall but I can feel the bruise in there. My shoes and socks were still wet this morning when I put them on. I was too lazy to go back upstairs to switch to the Mizuno.
My ankles have been sore since the weekend. I know it’s from carrying those heavy oak logs out of the forest. The old timers used to say that firewood warms you twice.
You can see in the pictures that my tomatoes and squash are starting to come on. Tough place to have a farm, New England, rocky soil and short growing seasons. Makes us tough.
I had an long conversation with a colleague yesterday. He has been looking for work. He told me how he won’t take less than xyz$ and how hard it is to get appointments etc.
I counseled him.
I said that when I’m having to present a revenue forecast to a board of directors they always ask ‘What business is going to close and when?” They are looking for you to commit to outcomes. I usually say, “I can’t tell you with 100% assurance what is going to happen 6 months from now. But, what I can tell you is that we are doing the right things today to put ourselves in a position to be successful in 6 months.”
Which is another way of saying you can’t change yesterday, and the only way you can change tomorrow is to do what needs to be done today with rigor and enthusiasm.
The world keeps turning. Good thing that is. The seasons come and go. Time drips by like an old wine curdled in the cellar.
And we live today.
Cheers,
C-,