I go round in circles
Not graceful, not like dancers
Not neatly, not like compass and pencil
More like a dog on a lead, going mental
This should begin with excuses about not posting here in a while.
It should start with all the Valid Reasons why I haven’t done this and that and the next thing I was supposed to do maybe even promised myself or someone else or just felt obliged to and maybe half-started but then in the end just…
Didn’t.
But no-one wants to read that.
And I feel like writing it much less.
“I can’t stand the maudlin ones”, says Dominic - Barry Keoghan’s character in The Banshees of Inishiren.
“Play somethin’ dancey!
To dance to.”
So that’s what I’ll do.
I’ll start again.
Again.
And I think everyone goes through these cycles, whatever your context.
Running, writing, healthy eating, work or relationship satisfaction, the avoidance / embrace of alcohol, drugs, or *insert chosen vice here*…
Round and round we go.
If you don’t, more power to you. But I think you’re the exception to the rule, and maybe that means higher lows, but also lower highs.
For the rest of us, life’s an endless loop. Not a cycle of enduring misery, rather a pattern that helps us to find balance. Once you accept that, and you understand which trajectory you’re on, you can embrace the lows, because you know what comes next. And you can appreciate the highs even more.
When running or anything else feels good, celebrate it.
If something feels good to you right now, you should do it as much as you can.
Lose yourself in it for a while.
And more.
If you’re lucky enough to be able to move without restraint or boundary, savour it. Because it’s not like that for everyone, and it might not always be that way for you.
Notice the dew that soaks to your skin in the long grass. Pay heed to the changing textures of the ground. Appreciate the way the river draws your eye with its sudden gurgles and forever flow.
When things are good, little details like this can keep you going for miles, days, weeks.
It’s easy to take motivation for granted. I know I do. I know that in the days when all I want to do is run, the days when the only question is “when” and not “if”, I don’t appreciate that for everything it is.
And if I don’t take note, it takes longer to get back here. If I do, I can accept the downtimes.
There’s no point dwelling on the fact that you’re not running as often as you “should”, whatever that means. Your struggle won’t be forever. All it means is getting to discover things all over again. There’s joy in that.
There’s a loop I often return to when I haven’t been running much. An undulating mix of single track and bike trails that winds through trees for just over six miles. Somehow, no matter the time, they’re the easiest miles I ever run. There’s familiarity, and with that comfort and flow. It lets me switch off and enjoy the experience instead of worrying where I’m at.
I’ve got a quotation written in my Notes app, and I wish I could remember where it came from. Given I can’t find it online, I can only presume there’s a folded corner somewhere to mark it, but who knows where. Anyway, it says:
There was a fundamental law of nature which said that when left to their own devices, things move in circles.
I wrote it down because it made sense, in the context of running or anything else.
Tidal streams, orbiting planets, concentric rings on a tree, grazing patterns of animals, water down a plughole...
Continue the list yourself and you’ll see it goes on and on and on.
We’re meant to move in circles.
Wherever you’re at in this moment or the next, it’ll come again.
This one resonates. Not running as often as I 'should'.
I'm thinking back to spring of 2022, my daughter would have been around 6 weeks old and The Line is a Curve had just been released.
Miraculously, in those early first months, there was something symbiotic in having a newborn whilst increasing the miles; adding loops onto loops. The Line is a Curve was my soundtrack in this time and will always be a special piece of music to me.
On an aesthetic level, with her fair hair, short cropped fringe and warm, open face, the similarities between Connie and Kae are quite strong; often comically so!
I imagine that every expectant parent shares the same mixed emotions of excitement and tremendous uncertainty, anxiety and perhaps guilt, about bringing a/nother human into this cluster-fuck world? Every parent of this era at least.
Kae was a great reminder to me that, in this time of chaos and darkness, there is light and warmth and hope.
Thanks for reminding me to join those dots up Jamie.
Fibonacci swirls 🙌🏻