Running down writing
Two articles on tap and I knew there was only one thing to do: I went for a long run.
Running allows me to think expansively ... about big ideas, large themes. It also gives me the time (and tedious moments) to break those big ideas into small digestible pieces. I can thread through a story in my mind, almost in a dream state.
Running feels like dreaming. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm not dreaming. Once, so deep into a run, I forgot where I was. I stopped and nothing looked familiar. In truth, I was only a few blocks from home at a street I pass every single day.
Caution is central other times, when it's a busy afternoon with lots of cars on the usually tranquil streets I favor. I rouse myself from the running sleep so I can pay attention.
This dreaming also happens when I swim, though believe it or not, swimming is a very raucous, boisterous pursuit. From the outside, it appears calm, but under the water, it's like excavating a quarry with every arm stroke ... splashing, pounding and the vigorous breathing and blowing that's need to keep yourself alive and pumping forward.
For a few months, starting with the hot weather, I ran less and less and some weeks, not at all. These wonderful fall days pull me outside without a struggle and I can run and dream, then come back to my desk with something to say.