500 words a day, huh? well... let’s begin. Lets see if I remember one of the passwords to one of the blogs I started a million years ago. Lets see if I can hold my heavy eye lids open for long enough to tap out a few bits of fiction... or maybe nonfiction. That, dear reader, will be for you to guess. So with no particular direction, off I go. As I kiss the cheek of the living dead at what is otherwise known as the crack of dawn, I write. Give a pencil and real live paper and I may doodle a bit as well to add to the future collection of nonsense and scribbles of which you will find this stolen-but-I-asked-permission-first-idea right here.
Some while back I abandoned the act of scribbling until I saw a friend of mine posting 500 words daily. It kind of drove me crazy. I wanted it. I was busy. I’d see it again. Id want it again. I’d get busy. Day after day of watching and wanting and working out and finding myself exhausted by days end, or in the beginning or anywhere in between with little left but haze in between my ears, a few bad jokes that would spill from my mouth to anyone who would listen and a weight on my eyelids if I dare turn to a computer screen rather than a pool or a road or studio in which case I would have zero problems forking over a few handstands.
Last week I was lucky enough to wake up at 3:45am Tuesday through Friday. I say lucky because I was on deck to sub for a fellow yogi who was out of town... so, if I didn’t wake up we would both be unlucky. I cant do that to a friend. So up I went. Turns out 5am bootcamp is very invigorating. What follows after the endorphins / seratonin rush dissipates, however, generally looks like the walking dead over here. Especially after having gotten up at 3:45am. Saturday and Sunday provided no relief either - although they were equally invigorating having done two days of hills by bicycle. Both days were in the woods. The air just feels better there, tastes better. It was as if the oxygen was just cool coming into me right through my skin under this canopy of green lushness. I love this. Saturday, up at 5am, was by mountain bike (I have a hybrid) and we tracked about 800 feet in elevation. Sunday, slept in to 6am, by road in Wisconsin where we tracked about 3500 feet in elevation. I don’t think I shook the zombie off me until Wednesday. I think I may have slept in until at least 7 or 7:30. That’s certainly not to say that zombie is a feeling that should be avoided entirely. One can take particular delight in grunting out answers when others try to engage in verbal communication with a zombie. Drool happens occasionally also. Sometime even while discovering you’re just hangin at the office and you’ve fallen asleep sitting up. You just wipe that drool from your chin and keep on truckin little soldier. Just keep on truckin.
And that’s my 500(+) words for today. Let’s see if I can remember to get a mental burn on tomorrow as well... with a little help (and inspiration) from my friends.