Friday, April 10, 2020

Y Aquí Andamos Apenitas

It's been about 19 days since I've been circling like a ghost from my room to the kitchen grabbing iced animal cookies. Perhaps being under these artificial lights dehydrates me into hunger.



As the coronavirus floats to the summit of my novel fears, I thought about a few things today on my neighborhood run: 

2 mile easy + 13 x ~300m hill repeats + 1.5 mile easy (no humans besides E)

This shake on normalcy has brought about an uneasy feeling to my often self-criticized normalized training. The need to control every portion of my regimen has created a too high, too thick dam of stiffness that slowly curates a precise way of thinking. At times, I can't help but remember the limitless that comes with naivete.

Normalcy should be critiqued as much as possible, and when imprecise distributions are seen, we should embrace them. Yet, a pang of embarrassment weakens me when I note the stresses and anxieties I experience when I am unable to adapt to such natural disruptions in my regimen. But what can you expect, I am a product of this routine-controlling culture, and it takes patience to think and stray away. As a participant of life, I must keep both eyes peeled of such hegemony in order to jig when we are taught to run.

Somehow I still don't feel like I adequately explained myself, but perhaps it's because I've been on this screen for too long. As the note-taking become denser, I hope to share polished conclusions I've come up with.

The week has been recorded as follows:



With sanitized hands,

me