100 Words Per Mile: Intangible, Macro-Level Bullshit

This week's entry is free for all.

January 26, 2022
6.00 miles
46:28

I left for this run while my wife and my daughter were both asleep. In five days, our little girl will begin daycare and my wife will return to work. The run was quiet. I didn’t bring my headphones and I don’t remember much of what I thought about, other than how quiet it was. Serenity is hard to come by, and it seemed especially difficult today.

I’ve been thinking about “peace of mind” and “happiness” and what it is that any of us may be pursuing on any given day. For instance, there’s an argument to be made that survival of both ourselves and as a species in coded into our DNA, and that every decision, no matter what it is, is related to the pursuit of survival. We eat, we fuck, we sleep, we repeat. Everything else in between is a different form of time murder. This feels a bit cynical and not the least bit romantic, but I understand the desire to classify things this way. When we reduce ourselves to animals, we cannot be prosecuted for acting on our animal instincts, yes?

But we are something more than animals. We do pursue happiness, I think. My claim to you from the very beginning was that this entire project belonged to my pursuit of happiness and my quest to be “better.” A happier me is a better me is also a version of me that will survive and keep the species alive. Especially now that I’ve managed to reproduce (go science!). I think what I’m stuck on right now is happiness vs. Happiness and the differing values of each. Lower-case happiness is matter of immediacy (I want to do that thing so I am going to do that thing). This could tie into my collection of baseball cards, or my drinking habit, or even when I feel a real itch to run. But capital Happiness is a more all-inclusive, umbrella state of affairs. Even if I feel lower-case sad, my life may still be a Happy life. Does that negate my lower-case sadness? I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m writing about it now.

This is the kind of intangible, macro-level bullshit that can get me spun up sometimes. In the same way that running 26.2 miles can feel soul crushing, I have to avoid looking at my life in too much of a “Big Picture” sort of way, and just let the routine of each day carry me forward. This is all one step at a time, one mile at a time. I think I just feel a little bit helpless today. That this project, and this pursuit is coming to an end, and that I will once again have to find another way to take a step forward.

Honestly, I’d like to get completely wasted and sweat myself sober on the dance floor. I want to close my eyes, give a DJ permission to direct me, and escape. This means something else is bothering me, but I don’t know what it is. I’ve become pretty good at recognizing my own behavior, of stifling a pattern before it starts up again, but that’s because upon reflection I could pinpoint the source of dysfunction. Could be stress at work. Could be something my family did. Could be I haven’t read or written in a while. At the moment, it’s none of that. Just the hovering cloud of static pulsing about in my chest. That’s your heart, idiot. Okay, maybe I just need to lay off the coffee a bit.

I am Happy, though. I may not feel happy right now, but it will pass, and giving myself some space to feel this way is probably all I need. I’m a fixer, but a fix is not what I should be looking for right now.

A longer run is coming. Maybe I’ll have something ironed out by then.