Skip to main content
This morning's run was cut short because I thought my bowels were going to explode. That's putting it nicely. I came down the Decoro hill and suddenly everything began cramping up. Now, I'm not talking about some simple discomfort. I'm talking about, "if I don’t make it to the john RIGHT NOW, things arte going to get, er, messy.



Part of the joy of running is the freeness you feel when you're so in tune with your body and every muscle is performing in unison. You can glide across the pavement or the grass like you're and elk or a gazelle, or hell, a fast moving elephant. But when one small thing isn't in tune, whoa baby, look out.



See, I wasn't ANYWHERE close to a bathroom. Seriously now, this was one of those moments I wasn't sure how I was going to get home! I must have been 3 miles from the house. And I couldn't run anymore. Oh, no, that would have caused even more trouble.



I once read about a runner who crossed the finish line of a marathon covered with her own.... you get the picture. I prayed I'd never experience something like that. Luckily I didn't. No, I was lucky enough to find an inconspicuous wooded area off the beaten path that I had to bolt in order to save a little bit of humility.



Unfortunately, I learned an important lesson. That tissue you're supposed to bring along may not always be for wiping your nose. It may be for one of these unforeseen moments when the only leaves around are the size of your thumb and to make some sort of ... tissue?... would require hours of weaving skills.



I had neither the time nor the weaving skills. I had to walk the remaining three miles home, tenderly, with a chill from the sweat on my back (and brow).



I know this wasn't the most... respectable entry. I mean, I almost became Jeff Daniels in "Dumb and Dumber". Still, I want everyone to know what I'm going through. It's not all fun and games.



Sometimes running can just be crappy.



Aloha.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

MARATHON FOOTNOTES (for those who didn't think I would really footnote a stream of consciousness thought): Footnote #1 Academy Award Winning Best Picture Films from 1969 to the Present: Midnight Cowboy, Patton, The French Connection, The Godfather, The Sting, The Godfather II, One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest, Rocky, Annie Hall, The Deer Hunter, Kramer Vs. Kramer, Ordinary People, Chariots of Fire, Gandhi, Terms of Endearment, Amadeus, Out of Africa, Platoon, The Last Emperor, Rain Man, Driving Miss Daisy, Dances With Wolves, The Silence of the Lambs, Unforgiven, Schindler’s List, Forrest Gump, Braveheart, The English Patient, Titanic, Shakespeare in Love, American Beauty, Gladiator, A Beautiful Mind, Chicago, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Footnote #2 Members of the band YES, from 1969 to the present: In 1969, Yes is formed with Jon Anderson on vocals Peter Banks on guitar, Bill Bruford on drums, Tony Kaye on keyboards and Chris Squire playing bass. This group records

The Beginning of an Explanation

When I dropped off of the Internet, it wasn't meant to be a years long sabbatical. I thought I just needed a break; that I was getting burned out from writing Basement Songs and movie reviews for Popdose.com. Something cracked, though, and I couldn't consider writing even in a journal for a very long time. Things changed in the winter of 2017. While driving to pick up Jacob at theater rehearsal, I experienced my first panic attack. It started immediately after he got in the car at the theater and it slowly took over my body for the fifteen minute drive home. My skin became clammy and I felt myself removed from my body. My brain was empty and I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. I gutted it out until we walked through the front door. Without saying a word, I went upstairs, crawled into bed and got in the fetal position. I just wanted to close my eyes and shut out the world. The next morning I awoke exhausted, as if I'd exercised the previous day. That was the first time

The End of the Explanation

I don't want to drag this out for a series of extended posts; there's no need to go into the minute details. So I'll wrap up my ongoing mental health journey with this post. After I basically quit writing, I began the work on myself. From 2017 to the middle of 2019, the only things I wrote were 10 minute dramas for our church, and let me tell you, even those were a challenge. But when God gives you a deadline, you don't mess around. There was a real depression that came with the relief of not writing or worrying about writing scripts. Again, if I wasn't writing, what was I doing? I really struggled with this question because we had moved from Ohio to Los Angeles so I could pursue a career in film. Even though I'd written and directed a movie, and sold a script, in my mind that wasn't good enough. I couldn't appreciate all of the great things in my life, and the solid career that I had forged in animation over 18 years. It took some real work: a lot o