New Morning

This be the morning that i begin to move my legs again. Or the morning that I empty my guts. Or the morning that I decide not to go for a run. Rosie suggested last night we attempt a jaunt through the park today and it will hopefully be the start of my training for one of the following: The Grindleford Gallop on March 13th, a 21 mile cross-country race that i did 2 years ago and is probably still my favourite race; the Sheffield Half Marathon on 25th April, a rather shitty race, 13.1 miles in length, yet possibly a more realistic target that the Gallop; the Nottingham Marathon, which I've never done before, but is in September and again is a realistic target; the New York Marathon in November, which would be incredible but looking quite expensive and difficult to get into; then around the same time, the Snowdonia Marathon, the only Marathon I've completed, just over a year ago. I think of running as a strange anomaly in my life, in that it's a definitive thing that I control and take pleasure in controlling. The fact that I not only enjoy running but am not too bad at it makes this easier for me of course. I suppose when you find something you're good at, there's an easy tendency to let it become, even if only small, a defining quality. I don't see running like this. But when you can control something fully - and I find it easy to do so in this case - there's a pleasure there. You do feel more definitive. Unlike songwriting, which is something I do, it's an action which you either achieve or you don't. Songwriting is ambiguous in definition, despite the idiocy of music journalism, which generally operates with a canonistic perspective.
I've been smoking recently and this is another reason to run. Firstly, as a test to see what effect smoking has had on my running and secondly, as an impetus to stop, as I'm sure I'll have to do so if I'm going to train for a race. I've said to myself that smoking is one of those wonderful flow activities where you're engaged in something which takes up very little of your brain power yet enough for it to allow your imagination to work in other ways. Like washing up or having a shave. There's a meditative quality to it. This is true, but it's getting really fucking cold now and my thoughts are starting to freeze up when I have to go outside. Time to stop.