So, while I was in DC, I didn’t run my morning run. For one thing, we were staying with my cousin Hillary and she lives in a hilly neighborhood, and I was pretty sure my knees couldn’t take it. For another, our entire days were taken up with walking around looking at the sights, and I figured it’d count for exercise. (I think I somehow gained 2 pounds on the trip. Or else the new scale my husband bought weighs differently. Why don’t all scales weigh things the same? I don’t get that.)
Anyway, when I got back on the road on Friday morning, it was fine. I was slower than ever and winded, but the feet moved and I made it the whole 3 miles.
Then Saturday happened. Have you ever wondered, “What if my whole body were coated with cement? And then I were plopped into a vat of cold molasses? And then I tried to move?”
Well, that was me. It took ridiculous effort to make it all three miles. I had to do that mental game, “Just one foot in front of the other,” over and over again.
Luckily, when I started up again yesterday and today, my body kind of gave up its resistance to the task, figuring, I guess, that this was going to be the deal again so it might as well play along. The run felt like it felt before I took the vacation break. Weird. But, yeah, whew!
Anyway, this gets me thinking about the task of writing. I’ve been on a bit of a writing break for a few weeks as well. I was on a roll right at the new year, cranking out 55 pages (!!!!) in less than two weeks. Then I quit. I started editing manuscripts for friends (I’m going to be at 1000 pages of editing by the end of this week, I believe.) And there was the trip. There’s a good chance my parents will visit this weekend and stay several days. By the time I start up the writing process again, I fear I’ll be a lot like a rusty old tractor–or like rusty old me after too long not running. I just hope my brain can get back in the game without too much effort. The story is still sparkling around in there, hitting me with ideas from time to time.
Here’s a pic of the spiral staircase at the U.S. Supreme Court. Let’s pretend this is the way my brain looks while I’m thinking up a story. Let’s not pretend these are the stairs I should be running up every morning to delete those two pounds that magically appeared in the last week.
Spiral staircase leading to the 2nd floor courtroom of the U.S. Supreme Court
