Really, life is starting to get busier. I have class every day of the week — well, not this Friday because of weird scheduling conflicts, but that’s a fluke — and homework assignments and paper work to fill out for the French Government, so I’m doing things.
But nothing is incredibly pressing. Nothing is sitting here on my desk calling for me immediately, demanding that I get going right away. I have due dates and deadlines and suggested end times, but nothing really pushes me on a daily basis. Except, of course, the desire to avoid spending piles of money, which is becoming increasingly easier as the Euro continues to sink, thanks to the financial situation in Greece that worsens daily. I’m holding out for a complete collapse of the Euro — think of how cheap everything will be!
So, I fill my time with running. Granted, I’m not running incredibly long distances or training for a marathon or anything like that. I’m just running. When I get home from class and look at the hours between just then and the time when I might feel like preparing my delicious yet solitary dinner for one, I realize that the best thing I can do is go for a run.
So I run. True, I’d probably run even if I had to fight to fit it into my schedule — I’ve done that in the past, and I’m planning on doing it again in the future. Running is a daily need; without running I don’t sleep well, I don’t eat as much, I don’t feel as awake and lively as I could.
I vary my runs — sometimes along the canal, sometimes up the hill to my favorite park — but the important thing is that I run. It gets me out of the house and out of the neighborhood and into the world around me. It makes me feel like I did something significant that day. It makes dinner taste better.
It keeps me going.
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