Sometimes I sit to write and I draw a complete blank.
I’ll sit for hours staring at the blinking curser.
It silently laughing at me because I can’t make it move.
Occasionally typing a token word or sentence in an attempt to fuel a thought that feeds my “poetic soul”.
Or even just my need to inform. I mean, let’s not dress this up, Folks.
I am what I am…in the words of Popeye.
Was it Popeye who said that?
Well, after googling it, apparently God also said it to Moses so, there’s that.
Then there are the times the words fly out of my fingertips.
I’m writing them in my mind before I sit at my computer and put “pen to paper” so to speak.
I get to say that because sometimes, like tonight, I write my posts in bed on a notepad so as not to keep Sean awake with my angry typing.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written a post while on a run, or in my car (oh that’s the worst!) and I have the entire draft in my mind. I’ll think ~what a perfect sentence!~and then realize I have no way to write it down as I’m driving. Must remember…must remember…must remember. Just choose a keyword. Maybe if I just keep the idea going…
It never works.
I always lose it.
Somewhere out there on the roads of Denver are words floating in the air like Sesame Street. Wishing they were unscrambled, longing to be put back together into beautiful posts.
I never could do words scrambles.
I think this is actually a game, but you get where I’m going with this…
My runs are the same way as my writing. I think that’s how life is. Some smooth…some require work. Didn’t your mom always tell you if every day were Christmas then Christmas just wouldn’t be special, now would it?
Some of my runs come so easily I don’t want them to stop. My feet just guide me the whole way and I don’t even realize how far I’m going or how fast. I’ll put my iPod onto a book and just head onto the road and put all my other thoughts and stresses behind me intent on just listening to someone else for awhile. It works and it’s beautiful. I love those runs.
And some are so difficult I can’t even get out the door. As I step out the door it’s cold. Or it’s hot. And instantly I know it’s going to be tough. But I go anyway. And I dressed wrong anticipating being too cold because I’m always too cold. Too many clothes and now I’m just hot. I’m miserably hot the entire freaking 5 miles.
And it goes on and on to create a miserable run.
Am I sorry I went? No, I suppose not. It’s always better to go.
But it was painful every step of the way.
Every run can’t be good. Every run can’t be bad.
Be it writing, running, or going to work…Pushing through those hard times and moving forward teaches us~trust yourself, take better notes, etc.~ and if you just listen to it, it’ll make the pain of trudging through your task worth it. At least once anyway. Maybe God is trying to scream something at me and I’m just too deaf to hear him. Or too stubborn to listen. Probably the latter.
I have a crazy massive girl crush on Amy Poehler. Because she just says it. And I love it.
I made Sean give me her book in actual real book form even though I LOVE the audio version. This way I can highlight all the parts of the book I want to. And that’s a lot.
Amy, where have you been all my life?
It’s okay Sean, I still love you.
Run on Friends…good or bad…get your run on…