I step on to the sidewalk. I amble the first few steps. I have to cross a traffic light, so I push the button. Once across, I look up at the trail ahead. I feel the wind in my face. I feel the urge. I start to jog...
I have a handicap. My neck, in it's normal state is not aligned with my spine. It's inclined forward by about 10 degrees. In a bad world it would cause me shoulder stress and tennis elbow pain. But this is the good part, where I put the incline to good use. I realize I have to cut through the wind. I lean...
A few steps in, I check my music player headset. It's firmly locked in place. I check the volume. It's just right. A new song has just begun. And this run has just begun... I got to thank the genius who invented the personal stereo system. My son prefers to say "innovated" and the world calls it a Walkman. It's a funny story. Sony wanted to reduce the size of its stereo music system and challenged its engineers to find an answer. Our man, the genius, looked at it long and hard. "The best way to make this smaller", he said, "is to remove the biggest part of the stereo". And boom! Gone were speakers and born was the Walkman. Genius. Just remembering the story takes me many steps into the trail...
The trail winds. And the wind is still in my face. But I'm all warmed up and the music comes into play. The rhythm of the song picks up pace and my feet start matching the pace without me even realizing it. I'm running harder. I'm enjoying it...
A good run has some pauses. Like when I come up to a small street with no traffic light. I've got to negotiate how I cross that street. I break the rhythm. It's time for caution. Once across, the music takes over. My feet fall into the rhythm again. I'm cruising...
Ive been running a while. Song after song has kept me moving along. I turn the corner. It's now the homestretch. The trail straightens. I can see far out to the end o the trail. And then it happens. The music stops. The song must change. The few seconds in between are telling. I hit the wall...
"Must keep at it", I tell myself, while I anxiously wait for the next song to start. It does, but it's slow. Not what I need right now. I need my feet to keep moving. I feel my gut wrench. There's a voice in my head screaming to stop. But there's something in me that denies that voice. I could fall dead, but I don't want to stop...
"How did my music player know that I'm hitting the wall?", I ask myself. That leads me to other thoughts. And others. Random thinking helps. At least I'm moving. This is the most difficult time in life... I look up again. I can see the end of the trail. I've got a little way to cover. The slow song stops. I can hear myself breathe. I can feel my footsteps are heavy. "The end of the world is near", I think. The only good thing is my feet are still moving...
The next song starts. It's got a rhythm to it. My feet start to match. I look up the trail. The end is really not far. I feel the suns rays on my face. But this time the wind is on my back. I feel the urge again. I lean...
I have a handicap. My neck, in it's normal state is not aligned with my spine. It's inclined forward by about 10 degrees. In a bad world it would cause me shoulder stress and tennis elbow pain. But this is the good part, where I put the incline to good use. I realize I have to cut through the wind. I lean...
A few steps in, I check my music player headset. It's firmly locked in place. I check the volume. It's just right. A new song has just begun. And this run has just begun... I got to thank the genius who invented the personal stereo system. My son prefers to say "innovated" and the world calls it a Walkman. It's a funny story. Sony wanted to reduce the size of its stereo music system and challenged its engineers to find an answer. Our man, the genius, looked at it long and hard. "The best way to make this smaller", he said, "is to remove the biggest part of the stereo". And boom! Gone were speakers and born was the Walkman. Genius. Just remembering the story takes me many steps into the trail...
The trail winds. And the wind is still in my face. But I'm all warmed up and the music comes into play. The rhythm of the song picks up pace and my feet start matching the pace without me even realizing it. I'm running harder. I'm enjoying it...
A good run has some pauses. Like when I come up to a small street with no traffic light. I've got to negotiate how I cross that street. I break the rhythm. It's time for caution. Once across, the music takes over. My feet fall into the rhythm again. I'm cruising...
Ive been running a while. Song after song has kept me moving along. I turn the corner. It's now the homestretch. The trail straightens. I can see far out to the end o the trail. And then it happens. The music stops. The song must change. The few seconds in between are telling. I hit the wall...
"Must keep at it", I tell myself, while I anxiously wait for the next song to start. It does, but it's slow. Not what I need right now. I need my feet to keep moving. I feel my gut wrench. There's a voice in my head screaming to stop. But there's something in me that denies that voice. I could fall dead, but I don't want to stop...
"How did my music player know that I'm hitting the wall?", I ask myself. That leads me to other thoughts. And others. Random thinking helps. At least I'm moving. This is the most difficult time in life... I look up again. I can see the end of the trail. I've got a little way to cover. The slow song stops. I can hear myself breathe. I can feel my footsteps are heavy. "The end of the world is near", I think. The only good thing is my feet are still moving...
The next song starts. It's got a rhythm to it. My feet start to match. I look up the trail. The end is really not far. I feel the suns rays on my face. But this time the wind is on my back. I feel the urge again. I lean...
