Sunday afternoon

The edge gets expropriated, but for those who have discovered boundarylessness that is an ever receding horizon. Blessed with this consciousness (I appreciate there are non-human consciousnesses; and a range of human. But we, mostly, share a consensus reality) we, who are fortunate to have the means and wits to do so, can meander and think and, now and again, write, think, sing or say something that shifts something in the way we or I act. And I shall leave Thing Theory to one side…yes, there is such a thing. And rather than have you resign yourselves to thinking, “What is this inchoate ape on about?”, I shall cut to the quick.

You don’t need running shoes, shorts, vests, Garmin’s, Apple Watch’s. Or training plans, targets, race entries, magazines or any damn thing, except your fortune and wit. Run to enable yourself to run when you need to or want to run. Not when your schedule says you should. Run up the steps, do a quick sprint for the bus, a jog up the path. Run because it used to be something you did all day long and somewhere along the line you forgot to. And then you thought you had sagged; so you began again. But you began in a way that a market wants you too. You are invited to buy kit. To buy a coach. To buy an event. To buy, and buy and buy. Buy something or buy into something.

I, like you, am caught in the web of stuff. Of irrelevance in the face of the multiple tragedies of our collective existence. Think about it as a minimum. Act on it as a consequence. Persuade others of its virtues. Together shift.

The sea is an inspirational medium. I am lucky to indulge in regular immersions alongside comrades and cake.