The gym was shut this morning and it
left me feeling untethered, adrift. When
I’m feeling unsettled, out of sorts, out of touch, I throw myself into
exercise. Yes, I know I need only do a
short sharp burst of HIIT or Tabata to keep fit but why do 20 minutes when you
could lose yourself for an hour or more?
On the treadmill or the cross-trainer (as opposed to the happy trainer?)
my body sinks into auto-pilot – it drops the need to stay tense – and my mind
empties. I float in a motion of sweat –
and it’s sweet.
So, instead, I took the SP for a walk
and, as I climbed the first sharp incline to the woods, I wondered…why do I
make everything so damn hard? I mean, everything. Why, for instance, so I always assault the
toughest path to the hill fort? Nobody
else goes that way (is that the appeal?) because it’s nigh-on vertical for
mercy’s sake. Anyhow, today I took the
aptly named Middle Path and, every so often, as I slalomed through the trees, I
walked into a wall of air – its texture palpable, thick. It made me almost gasp and chew – the kind of air you
eat rather than breathe.
And instead of route-marching round
the entire circuit, I meandered to my tree, sat down and leaned against him, my
head resting back against his bark and bite.
My woof/wulf-tree, lately left lorn. And spiders wobbled around me and a
bee looped lazily and the grass was so grass
green (like children’s crayons) and high, stalks leaning into one another as if
exhausted already by this shot of summer.
Anyhow, that was it really. No great revelations, no deep meanings, no nothing really.
But I wonder...what do you do when you’re adrift?
How do you moor (more?) yourself? J
