I Feel Fine
Wasn't going to post tonight, but tonight is one to remember.
Rained all day today. Rained for 80% of Saturday. Grey skies have become the norm for the last few weeks (literally), and I am stunned when I see the sun - If only for a second.
That Black Lab lyric that came through so clearly on this week's episode of Phedippidations really sums up the state of the union right now: "I can't see the sun anymore, but I don't mind, you're by my side, and I feel fine."
The "I feel Fine" bit is starting to wear a little thin. The forecast is calling for the sun to break through on Friday of this week... and if not, I'm just going to break down and sue. I'm going to sue the weather network. I'm going to sue Al Gore. I'm going to sue Mother Nature... because this ain't right.
Today's rain stimulated a day of couch surfing. Watched two horrible basketball games, and then caught up on some TV shows (Lost and Jericho). Before I knew it, it was 10pm... and as I went to slowly get my running gear together, my iPod battery was flat. Left it to charge, hoping the rain would miraculously let up.
By 11pm, it was charged enough - and I ventured out, for what I had bargained down to a few miles. It was supposed to be 12 miles, but my mind had decided that I had a slight hamstring pull and that my soleus was tight. My throat had made up a dry feeling, bordering on what some might consider to be the early stages of the signs of oncoming illness. My stomach felt too hungry to run 12 miles. And I think my dog had eaten my homework. Excuses ruled the day. And it wasn't raining anymore... it was snowing. It really was.
I started out, and before I knew it, 10 miles were in the books. I pushed on, ice pellets stinging my eyes and face. I was soaked to the core, my hands too cold to move. As my Garmin beeped for the 12th time, I killed all the music. I walked home, staring at the snowflakes in the against a blue black sky.... like frozen fireflies dancing in the rising mist. The streetlights cast an awful glow against the wet asphalt, but its lonely orange colour, was reminiscent of that burning star that has forsaken us for so many weeks.
I still can't see the sun, but I'm alright, and I feel fine.
Rained all day today. Rained for 80% of Saturday. Grey skies have become the norm for the last few weeks (literally), and I am stunned when I see the sun - If only for a second.
That Black Lab lyric that came through so clearly on this week's episode of Phedippidations really sums up the state of the union right now: "I can't see the sun anymore, but I don't mind, you're by my side, and I feel fine."
The "I feel Fine" bit is starting to wear a little thin. The forecast is calling for the sun to break through on Friday of this week... and if not, I'm just going to break down and sue. I'm going to sue the weather network. I'm going to sue Al Gore. I'm going to sue Mother Nature... because this ain't right.
Today's rain stimulated a day of couch surfing. Watched two horrible basketball games, and then caught up on some TV shows (Lost and Jericho). Before I knew it, it was 10pm... and as I went to slowly get my running gear together, my iPod battery was flat. Left it to charge, hoping the rain would miraculously let up.
By 11pm, it was charged enough - and I ventured out, for what I had bargained down to a few miles. It was supposed to be 12 miles, but my mind had decided that I had a slight hamstring pull and that my soleus was tight. My throat had made up a dry feeling, bordering on what some might consider to be the early stages of the signs of oncoming illness. My stomach felt too hungry to run 12 miles. And I think my dog had eaten my homework. Excuses ruled the day. And it wasn't raining anymore... it was snowing. It really was.
I started out, and before I knew it, 10 miles were in the books. I pushed on, ice pellets stinging my eyes and face. I was soaked to the core, my hands too cold to move. As my Garmin beeped for the 12th time, I killed all the music. I walked home, staring at the snowflakes in the against a blue black sky.... like frozen fireflies dancing in the rising mist. The streetlights cast an awful glow against the wet asphalt, but its lonely orange colour, was reminiscent of that burning star that has forsaken us for so many weeks.
I still can't see the sun, but I'm alright, and I feel fine.
posted by sobe at
10:46 PM
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