Outside the window dried leaves are half suspended in the breeze. It feels hot and cold at the same time. There is something sere, something mature and finite about today... a new, summerless quality.
Today, what matters the most, matters the least. Today I found out that my 14 year old dog has Cushings Disease. Today my net worth is thousands of dollars in the negative, compounding daily. If every cent I earned for the next few years went directly into paying down my debt I might be worth a fat fat goose egg. Today I realized that we wont be moving soon. Today I condemn myself to another year in this cabin, falling in and falling down, an entropic race between mold and gravity. Tonight, here I reckoned with all of it. I took to the tea cabinet, with honey, and valerian root. Pet the dog, rub my temples. Sometimes I will never climb out of this hole, it is mine forever.
But, as they say, I have my health. Except when I don't, like when I am busy looking at the blue sky and, oops my bones are bashed on the side of a mountain. Or like when I plummet into hypoglycemic organ hyperexcitablility, specifically of the brain, a state in which I sulk and pick fights, and from which I can be sheepishly cajoled with a slice of apple and a sharp word. While this is miserable to say the least, thankfully I have yet to slip into a coma.
But I have my health nevertheless. My legs and my lungs are strong and I will finish the marathon, and in fact will stun and amaze onlookers when I drop and give 20 after 26.2. Like it was just a warm up. I will finish with a keg stand.
THEY SAY THE MARATHON HAS BEEN DEVALUED, THAT SO MANY PEOPLE RUN MARATHONS THESE DAYS THAT ITS NO LONGER CONSIDERED A GREAT ACHIEVEMENT. He shakes the newspaper trying to fold it neatly and shrugs. THAT'S JUST WHAT I READ.
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