This morning I went running for the fourth time this week. Not bad for my first week out running since before the summer began. Waterskiing is so much more fun to do in the mornings but so much more difficult when it is 30 degrees outside. Some may say that about running too but to them I say, nonsense.
I read an article the other day about the "activation energy" required to get outside and exercise in the winter months. The term is from chemistry and relates to the level of energy needed to start a reaction. Sometimes you need only a little, sometimes a lot. When it comes to exercise outside, generally you need less in the summer when it is warm and the days are long and more in the winter when it is cold and the days are short. I agree, but just like when I go waterskiing before work, I feel so much better after I've gone out there and run a few miles.
And it is so much better than belonging to a gym. I love not belonging to a gym. Everywhere I've ever lived I've always felt compelled to belong to one and so joined one when I lived in New York and again when I lived in San Francisco and again when I lived in Chicago. And I constantly felt like I HAD to use my membership because I was paying good money for it and inevitably didn't use it enough for the cost. That plus the gym is so artificial. I appreciate things like swimming and yoga and spinning and recognize that sometimes a gym membership is the only way to do those sorts of activities. In fact I used to do yoga a lot more than I do now and would like to get back to it. But at the same time there are clear, tangible upsides to not having a gym membership that I'm quite content.
Today when I went running I took a break on the north side of a body of water called Wonderland Lake. Sitting down on a clump of dried mud and grass, I admired the view of the Flatirons shooting skyward to the south and the crystalline water in front of me, gently lapping the muddy shoreline. The sun's more shallow angle this time of year caused its reflection off the water to be particularly blinding but I didn't mind. The barren foothill to my right looked like someone had momentarily taken a giant can of white spray paint to it and then run off in a hurry. But given the warmer temperatures today that snow will disappear shortly. As I sat there the almond-colored leaves on the trees behind me sounded brittle in the breeze, no longer soft and pliable like they were a few months ago.
I always have known this but as I rested there I realized again that the cool thing about being a writer is it makes you more aware. More in tune with what's going on around you and more observant. Because as a writer it's your job to look for inspiration so that you can put those things into words.
