This is the first in the series of “Tarmac Meditations” by Michael Lebowitz, runner and writer. “When I run,” writes Michael, “I put in a lot of time thinking about how things are going. Sometimes I don’t think about time and distance. When I get home I have taken to writing some of it down.”
Tarmac Meditation #1: December 11, 2009
The bed is warm, oh so warm. I didn’t sleep worth crap last night. It’s too goddam cold. My asthma is acting up. Cold weather is not good for asthma. My scar hurts. In the cold. Damn it, my arm is hurting. Since when? Since it got so goddam cold is since when. There is no gas in the car. Lie! I have to write a story this morning based on the dream I just had. Wait a second, I can’t remember the dream. Idiot, keep a pen and paper by the bed. Damn it’s early. Where is my jacket, you know, the warm one for running? My foot hurts from the minimal shoes. I just realized I left that warm jacket in Edmonton where it is really cold. Damn, I feel a headache coming in. I can run at noon. I don’t have any coffee. No good bread for toast. Another lie/s. If the light works I can read that story I have to read. It is so damn warm in here. Damn it, where are my socks, it is too damn cold to run without socks, why can’t I lace up the frickin’ shoe, it ain’t that cold in here. I need the balaclava…
I’ll run later. Promise. No really, I promise. I will run later.
When I turn off the light the room is lovely, quiet, childlike, a dream.
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