Six Miles of Good Road

I'm on a jogging jag.

I ran six miles over the weekend.  Gosh, that felt good.  When I'm running, I feel like I'm on fire. I feel like I am tearing through the world with great velocity and strength.  I do feel like I can conquer anything.

On Saturday, there were lots of packs of running groups.  It felt like community.  I saw fit people, running hard.  I saw they were getting the same satisfaction and joy I was getting.  I could only assume that they were having the same revelations and epiphanies that were brought on by the endorphins running through their systems.  It was pure joy.

Then why don't I run every day?

It is so painful for me to get out the door daily to run.  I run a few times a week, which is incredible.  But I'm a runner.  I love it.  And I have the time to do it every day.

But isn't it like writing to me?  When I'm in it, I love it.  I feel like I'm conquering the world.  I feel like Goliath.  But when I wake up to start the day of writing ahead of me, I'm David…looking up at the beast ahead of me and wondering how I'm ever going to conquer him.

But I have done it before.  I have done it well before.  But even if I didn't do it well, it's an amazing feat to finish just one script.

But here's what I'm constantly thinking:

Now I need to do the rewrite.
This isn't perfect.
I have to still write more scripts.
Should I take on that other idea that seems a lot easier?  (Newsflash: It's not easier.  You'll soon grow to hate the process as much as you're hating this one.)

I am so mean to myself.

And I know why.  My Dad pushed me and didn't want me to have a big head about things.  So that turned into this feeling that I could never be in the moment and appreciate an accomplishment.  I had to constantly focus on what I wasn't getting done because if I stopped, then I would leave an imprint.  Like a footprint.  That footprint would reflect where I had stopped.  It would be a marker and I would never go beyond that point.  If I kept moving on--dissatisfied with what I had done--I would be saying that I know there is more ahead of me and that I'm better than what I just did…just you wait.

But how long does one need to wait before they get tired of waiting and move on?

That's the problem with that way of thinking.

I'm going to concentrate on doing what's in front of me.  I'm going to run (and write) and enjoy the feeling of my muscles working,
of my eyes looking straight ahead,
of my lungs taking in more air and not feeling stretched, but feeling bigger,
of my mind opening up and taking in as much air as my lungs.

I love running.
I love writing.
I need to stop acting like I hate it.

I'm lucky.  I can write.  I don't have to will that ability into existence.
I just have to get up.