Escapism at it’s finest…

This was one of those mornings where the alarm went off and I lay in bed thinking to myself, do I really need to run? Do I want to go pound the pavement and get sweaty and tired right now? I rolled over to the cooler side of my pillow hitting the snooze button and just thinking. Can’t I just go back to sleep and do it this afternoon? But do I ever end up going in the afternoon…no. (Well, honestly it happens occasionally, but not often enough if I’ve skipped the morning alarm.) I debated trading in my health for an extra half hour of laying motionless with my eyes closed, beyond that opportunity to surrender myself to sleep, before it was really time to get up. Then I decided to check my Facebook. It’s just a restless habit I guess. I always feel foolish when I do it in the morning, like what could have really happened in the last seven hours, that’s that important I need to check? I had a text from a friend with such a fun memory, and though she’d sent it when I’d fallen asleep – it was one of those things where I’m thankful I’m not the only memory keeper. That sometimes our friends store the good ones in a sweet spot and take them out to savor in recollection every once in a while, too. But then I looked at Facebook, and there was a message from the past just looming there. It doesn’t matter what it was about, but more importantly that it was all I needed to hop up and get dressed, throw on my shoes, brush my teeth, and get out the door. I knew I was dangling close to the edge of the safe amount of emotional turmoil to take on and I knew that reading that and still ignoring the urge to get out there and run, would be a mistake. Where ever my mind decided to take me today, I was going to need that little bit of sanity that’s gained through those early morning runs, the tiny amount of space on the shelf in my brain that gets cleared off when I just breathe and push myself. I had no patience for the warmup, I just took off. Running hard, feeling myself pick up speed in the dark, around illegally parked cars in the street, too early to have any dog walkers to dodge. But the thing is, there wasn’t any anger, no real frustration, just that act of cleansing. The release that makes my insides feel a little less cluttered, instead of like a jammed garbage disposal. I found myself thinking “there’s not enough space for the both of us in my thoughts, so get out.” Maybe it’s harsh, but it’s true. I conjure up enough scenarios to mull over that I don’t need ghosts delivering new ideas. But as my thoughts drifted away from that, I thought about my hometown and my parents moving away from it. I’m almost halfway through my twenties, but most of the time I still feel like a teenager. There are certain people in that town who always sparked a school girl crush, and I imagine not running into them anymore. I mean, it’s a normal progression of life, and it’s not unexpected it’s just an odd thought. It started to sink in a little more because most days I try to get those thoughts to rush past, and not stick. I get too hung up on  nostalgia and it’s not worth the depletion of energy. But people grow up, we change, we move away, we settle down, we disappear, and everything is in some sort of constant motion. I think of the houses and the hang outs. It doesn’t matter that a building is in the same place (of if it gets turned into a cell-phone store) because time charges on and just because an establishment is there – it doesn’t mean the same stories will continue to be written in those places. I guess I’m saying that I think I’m finally learning to accept the past for what it is, and not try to cram the future in there too.The only thing is, I have to hold on to that thought long enough to believe it. Because then I’m driving to work and this wave of something washes over me. What? I’m not sure. It’s not exactly nostalgia, it’s not regret, it’s not longing either. It’s an emotion I can’t quite pin down. I was just thinking of the way I leave that town behind, but yet the pieces always have their ways of following me here. Anyway, another story for another day…

The trend of the week seems to be surprises. Yesterday there was an opossum in the trash can at work, (which is disgusting and I’m walking out if someone gets rabies.) Today my lovely little message. We’ll see what the rest of the week brings, if the surprises keep rolling in hopefully they’re of the good variety.


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