each to their own

due to unexpected circumstances yesterday i did my run in the evening instead of morning. it is bizarre how different it feels; not in a bad way, just very peculiar. the whole setting is different, there are more people, more traffic, more everything. even the darkness is different, it has more tones and totally another feel to it.

but i have to say, i would imagine that if i ran regularly in the evenings i probably would run less; it would appear that it might be more likely to reason yourself out of it every now and then. i guess it could become a habit like running in the morning, but for me it seems that there are too much variables involved -- for example, stressful situation at the office that extends the work day; or the headache you get as a result of that; or a lunch that doesn't sit well with you. even a nasty weather would probably be more likely to deter me than it is in the morning hours. so kudos to everyone who runs in the evenings; i probably couldn't do it.

so even if i had a nice run yesterday, and even if change is more often than not good, i definitely won't be making a habit out of running in the evenings. i am too lazy a person for that, and why should i, really; starting the day with a run really is the best way for me to get it going.

just you wait

you say you can't wait. you say that the awareness of what is to come fills you up with such anticipation that it feels that it won't fit inside you and that the comparison between what will be then and what is now is too big, too much, too everything except gone fast enough.

you say that what is to come looms in the horizon like a huge crescent moon, one that turns into full so slowly that it drives you mad. the agitation caused by your impatience prickles under your skin and makes your head ache; and all you wish for is that the day would come faster, that the day would be here tomorrow; because you honestly can't wait.

and every night you pray, from the bottom of your worn-out heart: let me have this, let it come; please please please don't take this from me like you have taken everything else. let me have this and i will never ask for anything more. you don't know who or what you are praying to, and in the end it really doesn't matter; maybe you are praying to yourself.

and at the same time you know that the reason why you want it so bad is because it is not here yet; that it exists only in the unfathomable future, in a one time hasn't touched or reality ruined. you can't wait and at the same time all you want to do is wait, wait for the rest of your life so that what is to come will always be there, so that you will always have a future and a reason to pray. 

you can't wait because what is to come is the only thing that's left for you; it is the last straw without which you will drown.

you say you can't wait; but of course you will. 

insert nike slogan here

there are mornings when waking up at 5.20 am feels slightly more difficult than on others. reasons can vary, but it is usually to do with either being more tired than usual, or the weather being horrible; in some cases, the combination of the two. today it was the former, i was for some reason extremely tired and surfacing from sleep felt as if trying to swim in a sea made of tar when someone the size of a blue whale is clinging on to you.

so it was not easy. this sometimes happens, so you do know in the back of your head that it does get easy the second you are out of bed; but there are those few minutes between the alarm going off and the act of physically getting  up that can sometimes pose a difficulty. but even so, and i realised this particularly clear today, the option of not getting up and going for a run and instead sleeping some more doesn't enter my mind. it doesn't because it isn't an option, and i am not quite sure when it stopped being one.

i find this rather interesting. especially so because later, when i am already up and equipped with relatively normal brain functions, i sometimes think why i bother getting up when most people are still asleep; why i day after day get out in the dark when i absolutely wouldn't have to, when i could be sleeping as well. i might even think that i should have just stayed in bed. but in the haze of half asleep and half awake, when you would think that this kind of thought would have the most standing ground, i don't think like this; it simply doesn't occur to my half-awake mind that in theory i could choose not to get up and go as well. 

i am extremely happy about it, of course, to be hard-wired like this; but i still sometimes wonder why it is so.  is it because i have been doing it for so long that it has become automated, or is it because of my obsessive nature; or is it because that not even once, even after the most tired of mornings or the most dreadful of runs, not ever have i been sorry that i went.

like you and me and everybody else

it was surprisingly late in his life when L realised that other people didn't hear the voices that he did.

they had, after all, always been there, as long as he was able to remember, and he had never had any reason to question their existence or validity. the voices  -- there were two of them -- were as self-evident to him as were his arms or legs or the colour of his eyes; something you didn't pay much attention to, something that just was. some of his first memories were to do with these voices; how could he have known, then, that they weren't - he was told - supposed to be there?

so when he learnt, at the age of  23, that other people didn't share his experience (by then he had already figured out that they didn't hear the voices in his head; but somehow he had assumed that they had their own voices, ones that he himself wasn't able to hear), L was somewhat puzzled, and strangely enough, disappointed. why hadn't the voices told him this? shouldn't they have known? or were they as clueless about the improperness of their existence as L had been?

it was no use asking them because that's not the way it worked; the voices in his head were at the other end of a one-way channel. to talk to them would have been like talking to a radio and hoping for a reply; thus he had never even tried, never even thought this to be a possibility. in other words, the constant, unasked presence of the voices had never bothered him before; but now, as he knew that they weren't supposed to be there, it became annoying, almost offensive. his inability to turn them off started to agitate him; he couldn't sleep at night or concentrate on anything during the day. 

something that had been an instrumental part of him had became a nuisance. it was like being bothered by your heart, or reflexes, or rhythm of your breath; being bothered by something that is you and that had always been you.

it was exhausting.

so eventually, partly due to the torment it brought about and partly because he was told he should, L sought help from medication. it worked with an almost frightening accuracy; two pills, twice a day, and suddenly there were no voices any more.

it was completely quiet.

and as he faced the world by himself for the first time in his life, his head occupied only by his own thoughts, he couldn't help but to feel lonely.  there was too much space now and his orphan self wandered in the vast hallways of his mansion of a mind, frightened of the empty rooms.

but at least he was like everybody else now. 

raven

the rain is heavy, it falls from the pitch black sky without hesitation or a pause. the drops bounce from the wet asphalt, making the ground beneath my feet seem alive; it takes only a few minutes before my shoes are thoroughly wet. it is useless to try to avoid the puddles that cover the vast majority of every even surface; when i was still in my bed during the hours of the night and listened to the drumming of the rain behind the windows these reservoirs of water were already here.  

the wind is strong as well but not as consistent as the rain. it grabs you unexpectedly, trying to push you off balance. when you run against it you can feel how you have to work harder to keep up with your pace; they say that this is not true, that running against the wind doesn't increase the effort required -- but right now it sure as hell feels like it does. then, suddenly, the wind disappears again, for a while, or eases up a bit; but don't make the mistake of thinking that it has ceased for good.

the wet ground reflects the street lights where it's not covered by the thick, squashed layer of dead leaves; it is the corpse of the summer gone that i run on. for now they still hold the colour of the sun, they are yellow and bright and seem to bring some light to the darkness -- but the edges are turning brown already, the process of decay is inevitable; and soon, sooner than you can imagine, the yellow will be rotten and with that all colour will be washed away from the scenery.

and in this darkness, how can you see any colours anyway. it is everywhere, this black, it is thick and impenetrable and even the bright neon lights of the advertisements on the walls of buildings seem defeated by it. it sucks everything in and lets nothing out, sitting on the world like a big, black bird: and even if the sunrise, still some hours away, will drive it away, the time of the year is such that you are aware of its presence even when its not there. 

it is a typical october morning, then, and as i ran through it i am smiling.

i must be going slightly mad.

good luck with that

anyone who has ran more than once knows that sometimes it feels better than others. sometimes from the first step onward you feel like you could go on and on and on; sometimes the best part of the run is when it is over.

i had the latter type of run yesterday. for no reason in particular, or at least none i can name, i had one of the most dreadful runs in quite a while. you know, the kind you have when everything under your skin is just a little bit too stiff and your muscles feel like there would be not even zero but negative energy in them;  when your movements have the grace and ease of those of a war elephant's and the speed with which you feel comfortable running is slightly slower than the grandmas nordic walking past you.

not that it actually matters so much.

and today, on the other the situation was quite different. absolutely beautiful, sunny autumn day that really just makes you happy to be alive; and a good reminder, especially when comparing with yesterday, that there are and always will be ups and downs, in running and in everything else; and the best thing to do is to try to be zen about it.

emphasis on try.

you must

the recognition was there, most definitely. the recognition that something needed to be done, that things could and would not go on the way they were; that among the infinite number of parallel universes there was none in which the current state of things would have been allowed to ensue. and more than the recognition, there was the need; an actual physical and emotional burn to do something about the matter at hand.

and yet he couldn't. O wasn't able to trigger the necessary nerves in his system to make this happen, even when the acknowledgement of the required change was so strong that ignoring it had become next to impossible. he couldn't quite understand why this was so -- why, when he so clearly realised the sheer unacceptability of his situation he still could not bring himself to do anything about it?

it wasn't so that the issue would have been overwhelmingly big. sure, it would change his life on many levels, and of course he couldn't be entirely sure that all that would follow would be only for good -- perhaps, had it been so, he would have been able to push himself to action with little to no effort. but whatever the consequences might have been, there was no way his overall situation would have got worse. that alone should have, he knew, been enough of an incentive to make the necessary steps. 

but instead the issue just sat there, in the middle of his existence like a big prickly blob of stuff, and he had no idea as of how to approach it. ignoring it hadn't made it go away, not at all; if anything, it had just became more obvious that it was up to him and him alone to do something about it. on some level O had hoped that someone would have appeared out of nowhere, a deux es machina, and made the decision for him, showed him how to go about it; but no such saviour had emerged and slowly O had been forced to accept that it never would.

thinking about the matter further didn't really help, either, as there was no actual uncertainty whether he should or should not tackle the issue. O knew he should, that sooner or later he absolutely must -- the do or not to do had ceased to be a question a long time ago. but even as there were no options, none what so ever, he lacked either the courage or the strength or the knowledge to execute the inevitable; and so, O decided, the only thing to do was to wait a little bit longer.

perhaps the strength would emerge; perhaps the courage would present itself. perhaps, if he just rested a little bit longer, he would know again how to get out of bed that morning.

counterreaction

i don't remember the last time it would have rained so hard as it did this morning. i'm not usually deterred by water falling from the sky, sometimes i even enjoy running in it, but today the amount of downpour was such that for a while i actually ran back and forth under the setback of finlandia hall (it's a relatively long one so this wasn't quite as weird as it may sound, even though i readily admit that the city employee emptying  the trash bins gave me an odd look) until the rain became humane again. in terms of this morning that means that i was able to see and i didn't have to worry about my phone getting damaged.

but i had a very nice run all in all, and the fact that i was soaked to the bone didn't bother me all that much. so even if it's monday, i didn't sleep all that well, it's raining cats and dogs -- i still feel rather fine; go figure why. 

(you guessed it -- i did not take this picture today)

bit by bit

i had a very good run this morning. the weather was really nice -- it had rained during the night so the air was humid but it wasn't windy or cold; if there is something i adore it is these lukewarm, still, autumn mornings when the sea looks like it is still sleeping and the darkness around you is not oppressing but rather protective.  added to that the lightness of feet and the ease of the run made it quite a nice way to start to day.

as i was approaching home a woman sprinted past me, heading towards the same direction as i was. now, it's not to say that i am a fast runner, or that i never get ran past -- it just doesn't happen very often (mostly because the amount of runners in the time i run is somewhat low) and it does sometimes awake a slight competitive spirit in me. so as she was running a bit faster than me,  i decided to speed up my pace as well and  kept up with her for a while and eventually ran past her. as i was on her side she made a fake spurt as if to start racing; i must have had a surprised look on my face as in the next second she laughed it off and said she was merely joking. we continued running side by side for the rest of the run -- it just so happens that she lives in the same building as i -- and had a nonchalant discussion about the conditions that morning and running in general.

for some reason this unexpected, good-humoured, short exchange left me with a good feeling for the rest of the day; perhaps it served as a welcomed reminder that it really can be the smallest of things on which a good day is built.

it's OK

acceptance doesn't mean that things are OK. it doesn't mean that H is fine with what has happened, and it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt anymore. the pain has become dull instead of sharp, and even if the knowledge will never leave him, he doesn't think about S constantly anymore.

S no longer dies in his dreams every night.

what acceptance means, and this really is the best he can hope for, is that he has come to terms with reality. he has learnt how to live with it, how to deal with it so that it doesn't paralyze him anymore. it means that the number of good days exceeds the number of bad days, and it means that he can now live again. that breathing doesn't require conscious effort. it is not always easy, but these days he manages.

it has been two years and seven months since S walked in front of a truck; and tomorrow H will be wed to the woman who pulled him out from the darkness that his death pushed him into.

life goes on; and so must he.

even if there are things that were never said.

a year from now

about a year ago i was asked to write down things that i would want to happen in the course of the following year. in another words, which things did i need or want to happen in order for my happiness to increase and my life go into the direction i would prefer it to.

now that i think about that list, some of the things on it have happened; some of them haven't. some of them have been in my control more than others, and i find it quite puzzling that not all of these things have manifested themselves. it does make you wonder -- did i not really want these things, just thought i did, or were there something prohibiting me from actualizing them? or was i just lazy? hard to tell, and of course there is no one answer to this question. but it is good to think about it.

then there are the things that i necessarily haven't been able to influence; the failure to meet these serves as a reminder that there are things beyond my control and i shouldn't be too disappointed if they don't take place. and in all honesty i'm not; maybe i'll just move these on my list for next year.

one of the results of the list of things is this blog; and i have to say that i am quite happy with myself for keeping up with it. it has provided me a channel to process some of the things that come to mind every now and then, as well as a platform where i can freely write down the brain junk that otherwise wouldn't  have an outlet. i don't know what is the interest value of all this to anybody else, but for me it has been quite a nice experience; a one i will add to the list of things to have around next year this time.

but as a notion, i would definitely recommend to anyone to draw up a list like that; it forces you to look at your life as it is now and compare it to how you would want it to be. you have a year to close the gap between the two; a lot can happen in that time.