Words 276
It’s
a great feeling to be done with a
workout. Exhaustion is a welcome respite
from the indecision that is rampant in the world.
Yesterday
and last night, the temp was above freezing so everything was quite wet. I figured that all would be slippery, so I
planned to do
another day up and down the stairs. I woke up, though, and it was -3—everything looked frozen so I went out to run. It wasn’t too bad. A bit slippery with a bit of water around. I had to run beside the walk sometimes on the snow pack because the concrete was full of slushy junk on an unknown depth. I didn’t want to submerge my shoes.
another day up and down the stairs. I woke up, though, and it was -3—everything looked frozen so I went out to run. It wasn’t too bad. A bit slippery with a bit of water around. I had to run beside the walk sometimes on the snow pack because the concrete was full of slushy junk on an unknown depth. I didn’t want to submerge my shoes.
The
mid-run sprint was good. I gave it all I
had as much of the time as possible. I
may have achieved a second or so quicker if I hadn’t lost some traction on some
of the ice spots. No danger, though. Luckily, I was finished before the snow started. Now it's snowing like crazy--from the sixth floor, the visibility of quite hampered.
The
other day, I heard a This American Life episode that was unique in the fact
that I didn’t want to listen to it. How
can this woman, whose stories I have heard and enjoyed many times, suffer
through what must be many minutes of wasted fluff as she searches the television for something to watch? How can she have the time to squander when I
never seem to have time to write, to plan lessons, to clean the house, to play
with the cat, to whatever? As a person
who doesn’t watch TV, the idea of sitting in front of such a machine, searching for reruns, must truly be a
definition of hell on earth.
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