Over a month ago, I played paddle. I was so hesitant because it sounded like baby tennis. The racket, the court, the rules… meh. It felt like someone who failed at tennis and got kicked out of squash decided to merge the two for themselves.
But I played it, and I loved it.
There’s no moral lesson here.
Also, you shouldn’t be getting moral lessons from me.
I’ve spent the last ten days on holiday. I’ve worked, though, because I don’t understand the idea of a holiday where one doesn’t think of work. What’s that? Still, I had some good downtime… occasionally running in Kenya’s elevated cities.
Running in Kenya makes me feel like a weako, but I’ve learned that when I come back to sea level, I benefit. It’s like my lungs remember the grind.
I wrote this a few weeks ago and didn’t know what I was getting at, so never published. So here’s me trying to round it off.
I’m in Paris this weekend to run a 10k. The adidas 10k.
I thought I’d be ready, but I travelled this week and didn’t have time to practise. Recovery and diet? A mess. I don’t think my body is in the best shape for this. But I’ve committed, so I have to.
I’m slightly scared about my performance, but I’m also looking forward to it. I run 10ks all the time and can expect a 62-minute finish if I don’t put in the work. I’m aiming for 57 minutes this time. Let’s see.
A friend asked me why I run, and in line with a Substack I read on erotic decisions, running is one of those for me.
It’s me leaning into something I’m not perfect at, and don’t aim to be perfect at, but something that makes me feel alive.
So this weekend is about being alive.
And allowing my body to do what it can do.
Leave a Reply