midstride: February

87. This one poses a challenge I hadn't expected. Yes, I'll need better conditioning than I presently have, but I also need a method for overcoming the mind problem. You know the one: where to put it? How does one entertain oneself while running laps? There's finding the right stride and counting laps. After about five laps those two get stale. If we exclude psychological warfare on the other runners, there isn't much else available. No wonder lots of runners take their mp3 players along . . . So far I've dragged myself through fifteen long, uneventful laps in a single run. Ten kilometers is 50 laps. Fifty monotonous ellipses. Do I look like a planet? (Don't answer that.)

41. Most of the thank you notes have been written and delivered. Three to go and we'll be through.

1. Another blood donation down. Eight left, if my luck holds.

This month was a long personal disaster. (What happened? Well, I did. Or didn't . . . These things are so complicated.) Meanwhile, a couple of midstride items turned to salt. The obsession is dead, the gratitude journal is stillborn, and a few more long termers sparked this month before also perishing. So. New month eh? Here we go.