This Time Won't You Please

On Thursday (08/08), I ascended Interstate 40 from Dallas to dispel my distractions throughout south Utah. Over the past few weeks, it became more noticeable the way my attention trickled down towards time's abyss. This is something that I urgently wish to put to a halt. It is difficult to improve my mental abilities when I am in a state of attention catatonia. In running, the stimuli that pass through my eyes is as stale as the trees that I pass by. These trees keep me awake, but I wish to design and implement a new form of preparation in this sport: one that includes psychological variable tracking and advancement. The current puzzle for me is finding the right balance between daydreaming and taking action. 

While my seclusion in Utah was fleeting, it was enough to empower my focus again. Training resumed last week, and the stiffness from sitting on my rear went away swiftly with the electric boogaloo. 

The Dallas Half is about 17  weeks away. 

Educar para liberar! I run to revolt. 

I've Been Waiting For

White Rock Lake Summer 2019

I find myself standing once again at a familiar point in my running timeline at what seems to be a recurring apathy at an almost interval based routine. At the moment, I have a small measurement in my training data that I am hoping to use as a form of calculation and study, but have yet to set off on that exploration for a couple of reasons that not all will be detailed here.

This little slime of motivation of mine has been inanimate. I have watched it slip through one hand down to the other sluggishly, and unfortunately, that is all I have done: Watched it. I am a believer of observance, but at what point do I take action? What's happening, am I to wait around for nature to fluctuate my brain just enough for me to do something, or am I the one that creates the determinant thoughts that tick each muscle fiber that begs for me to take action. 

I have managed to steer my physical training about 95% accordingly, but I find my mental state (as described above) unable to sizzle. There are days when I forget what I am running for. I forget my race goals, my training plans, my affirmations, my creativity, and I end up yawning in a middle of a run.  This rumination seems to loop too often in these writings. It will be a conscious effort of mine to make myself unreachable by these pastoral grips over and over again. And to write more on my atheoretical running tactics. To write more on the good days, and eliminate the negative autobiographical memory biases. To merge my favorite interests into running and create a new form of art that will ease all who read, and participate for the distance. Commence these rhythmic motives.