After a few hours of sleep, a very rare fact for me that I usually touch the pillow and I fall asleep suddenly, I say to myself that in the afternoon I should have gone to run a little bit. I think that 35 minutes, like the last time, could be ok, in order to keep up the pace with this miracle I’m living with: from the very first time when I ran 5 minutes or so, in a totally chaotic mode, with no breath at all that I couldn’t even think, slowly, step by step, I fought this anguish about running. I did just a little auto-violence on me and, though I still run like a bag of potatoes, at least I’m on the path to learn the art of patience in small steps. Smallest, I’d say, to be honest.
Bad weather, with a clear tendence to get worse in a few minutes, with wee rain coming up and a suspect wind that is already blowing. Early afternoon, just after lunch, no one around, cool temperature that I think to wear my sweatshirt, without risking to drown in a sea of sweat. During these 2 weeks of jogging, I realized that to afford to run my way, I need to start with a fast walking, at least 1 minute or so: kinda soft training to use as an anaesthetic, in order to appear moderatley happy. Instead of 1 minute I do 5 minutes, so that I can start exactly at 2 o’clock pm. Weather is definitely getting worse and the soft wind turns into a real “serious” wind: Great! I think. Then I start running with a certain easyness, together with my playilist from punk to jazz, just in case I need different inputs in different moments. Oh, how much I know myself!
5 minutes, in a very easy mood, in perfect harmony with the whole world, that puts an idiot smile on my face. On the other side of the road, along a grassy side of a small river, I glance an old man with a beautiful hunting dog, brown and white, with long fluttering hair. The dog just stops while I’m passing before him: he just turns into a statue, staring at me. I smile back, thinking of how beautiful he is, with his majesty up above, from my lower point of view: like a noble dog on a glamour magazine cover, beside his also noble owner, by a huge victorian mansion, somewhere in the UKshire. I keep on smiling, while the owner tries to move the dog with him, but the dog stands still, as he was staring at a weird or unusual event, or as he could feel something coming un in a few seconds. Or maybe he was thinking I’m running like a lame dog?
While this random thoughts whirl in my mind, I suddenly realize that I’ve started this run a bit too fast. So I decide to slower the pace. From this moment on it was just a matter of seconds what happened next. It was kinda action like Mission Impossible: I smile at the dog that now seems clearly to feel something wrong it’s going to happen, I look ahead, I go so slow that I can harldy lift the feet from the ground, I stumble onto a mix of mud+gravel and my perspective becomes flat horizontal and vertical at the same time. While I fall down, I think that it’s really me that is going down on the ground, that probably I’ll be hurt, and the first reaction is: “Well, nevermind!” Frightening.
Then I’m flat on the ground, music stopped and I think:
What the Fuck – See, what a dumb that I am – I was too slow – What about the iPod? – Very bad impression if the old man with the dog is still loking at me – Is everything fine? – My hand is wounded – Let’s get up – The dog was right (Smile).
I turn on the iPod again, check my hand covered with gravel and blood, a quick estimate to realize the knee is ok, a bit aching with some blood but ok, and I smile thinking that my tactic of falling down on the ground is getting better through the ages. When I was a kid, I used to fall down easily, hurting knees and hands every single time: I was instead very keen on protecting my teeth, my precious teeth. Maybe because my parents kept on repeating me: “Mind your teeth, or we should ask for a loan to fix them”…..Kinda “imprinting” I grow with. It worked.
So, I can run after the fall and I will: it would be a pity to waste this cool weather ! I start again my run, happier than before: I know it sounds weird. I see myself from outside: a dumb girl, with 2 squint braids, satisfied, running with a hand and knee covered with blood, with a odd feeling that this small pain can help to deviate my mind from the effort of running. Well, I can say this fall, this little aching in my body and this grey road that invites me to go ahead, it makes me feel pretty good. I beg for a wee rain, just to wash my hand from the gravel and blood, and tadah! Here comes the rain, that also refresh me from the weak sun of a bit before. Great! I go along a wide avenue of an industrial area, while many people come out from their offices, workers and suited managers, stuck in the rush hour of the traffic jam. I think how great is to slide along the road while it rains gently, wishing this road get longer step by step. As I feel good.
The iPod’s random ends on “Live High” by Jason Mraz and “Personal Jesus” as a cover by Old Lemon Juice.
My Ego explodes in joy:-)
B.
