Bends in my road

The next day, though you're here with me,
I can't help looking at the clock:
-Wislawa Szymborska, "Nothing Twice"


At times, I fancy my feet planting themselves on palpable ground. The air pauses in its billowing, the heart trembles, sighing, for a little while, hopeful, wondering: is this where the hapless, aimless chase ends, where things are found and held, where I am to be found, and held, at last?


Somewhere,  a clearing.  Nearby, a promise. From the soul, a hunger, inchoate. The longing to stay. 
Oh, to stay. 


And then, the breeze turns, unannounced, a host of forebodings descend, whirring with the wind, and the time for trembling, sighing, closes in, like all days do. 


But it was so still in that last second, so still!


Still, the feet, reluctant, spring into a run. Gently, at first, then swiftly, as always. Only this time, questions weigh the mind, the heart down, will the eyes to turn toward directions other than forward.

Run, Run, Run.

My dad called me up a couple of days ago to remind me of how sedentary my lifestyle is--up to and including the nature of my work--and the dangers that come with it (high blood pressure and other cardiovascular-related diseases). It was stating the obvious, but being a parent, he told me that I needed to have some exercise routine that would alleviate the height of the risks. He reminded me, too, that I had medical insurance that I should be taking advantage of. "When was the last time you had a general check-up?" he asked me. Silence. I couldn't remember the last time I had one.

And, of course, he had to add, "how old are you? thirty?" And I was, like, "Daddy! 29 pa lang!" He chuckled. Well, technically, I am only 29 years old. Until March. Grrrr.

And so, yesterday, I ran. This morning, I ran, too. The thing about running is that once you get started, you can't stop. I just wish I had more time. I'm making it a resolution to run at least 3 days a week--that's Friday, Saturday and Sunday. A friend made me try that Wii exercise thing, but I stopped five minutes after trying it; I couldn't wait to go out into the twilight and catch some evening breeze. My legs and feet itched for activity.

Yeah, nothing beats the real thing. As early as now, I can already feel the effects: I feel less drowsy, readier to do things.

Yep, dads always know best. =)

Have a great Sunday!

Good Morning

A peek through the curtain revealed an 8 o'clock that was cool and mild, if a little gray, not the kind of morning you'd expect to see on a summer's day. Just perfect for running, so I slipped into my running pants and put on my running shoes, did some warm-up, turned on Robyn's "Cobrastyle" and prodded my legs into action.

I met a white man walking his dog (a very handsome husky--though I can't really be sure if it was male). The man said "good morning," and I said "good morning," back. Before that, he had greeted other joggers, which assured me that his having greeted me was in no way out of the ordinary. The thing with us, Pinoys, is that we like going our own way. I, for one, certainly wouldn't have thought of saying hello to a stranger, just because. Which is sad, come to think of it.

I jogged through the streets of the village, willing the sweat to come, pushing away the negative vibes, exorcising the morose thoughts. I ordered my mind to focus on the peacefulness of the morning. I felt thankful to be alive. With each swing, I tried to count my blessings. I took deep breaths. I ran, and ran, and ran.

It was the perfect way to jump start my morning. As I was eating breakfast, I felt mighty glad thinking that it had given me the energy to do things for the day--do some cleaning, perhaps, or re-organize my closet.

And now I am in front of the PC, hopping from my blog to my Facebook.