to me. No, I hate him for allowing Lucifer to rule over the dead. I clinch my fist again and let it go, as if I am clinching my hatred and releasing it.
It is a beautiful morning. A classic September morning in Austin. The sun shines brightly, without a cloud in the sky to interrupt its rays. It will be a hot afternoon as is typical for this time of year. Looking at my clock, I see it is just after nine o’clock. I slept much later than usual. I walk to the south side of my apartment and step onto the balcony. The sun feels wonderful, especially after wondering if I would ever see or feel it again. I look over Town Lake and see a lot of people on the running trails. That, too, is typical of this time of year. New students trying to get into shape to impress their peers, and returning students trying to recover their former bodies. All of them are out running, biking, and walking. These are the casual exercisers, though. It is too late in the day for the diehards to be going around the loop. Those training for marathons and half marathons and even the triathletes would have been out earlier in the cooler weather.
I wouldn’t call myself a serious runner. In fact, more recently, I have gravitated to a CrossFit workout. I am a casual runner. I enjoy 10Ks and half marathons, though mostly the former as of late. At age forty-five, I am aware that my joints have seen their best days, and I have no desire to push them to constant aching. Still, shorter running events are too much effort for the distance they cover. I don’t enter races to beat my best times; I enter races for other reasons. I enjoy the events themselves. Being around other runners feels good. There is camaraderie, a connection, with the runners at these events that is hard to explain. The events themselves cause me to work harder in my workouts than I might otherwise. For example, knowing that I am training for a 10K “mudder” in two months in Dallas keeps me motivated to run and lift throughout the dog days of summer. A mudder is an event that combines running, lifting, and obstacles, such as a mud crawl. Going to these events is also a way to meet attractive women who take care of their bodies, wear tight-fitting clothes, and have higher than average sex drives, thanks to the exercise. Waylon Jennings once sang, “There’s only two things in life that make it worth livin’ / is guitars that tune good and firm feelin’ women.” I have to believe he was in Austin when he first sang those words.
I am a serious enough runner to know that if I am going to run today, I will need to wait until this evening, when it is a bit cooler. Still, I need to get out of this apartment, and I need to burn through some frustration, even if this means a poor workout in the heat. I pick up my cell phone and contact Mike, one of my running partners. Mike typically runs longer on Saturdays, usually with our running club or with me, and he would take off Sundays. Since he doesn’t normally run on Sundays, he wouldn’t have been out this morning, so maybe he wouldn’t mind a short run with me, even if it is hot.
I suddenly think of a problem, though. I don’t have any memory of yesterday, so I wonder, did I run with him yesterday? I decide that if he refers to the two of us talking or running yesterday, I will chalk it up to memory loss from too much drinking and joke about it. Given my history, he would buy it.
“Hey, Thomas. I’m just walking into church. What’s going on?” Mike answers on the other side of the call.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that Mike. I’ll be quick. Is there any chance we could get in a short run when you get back home? Nothing big, maybe a four miler? I need to burn off some booze and food.”
With me, burning off alcohol and food is common, so Mike wouldn’t question it. Plus, this would lay the groundwork in case I can’t recall something from yesterday. I had forgotten about his church involvement on Sundays, as going to church was
It is a beautiful morning. A classic September morning in Austin. The sun shines brightly, without a cloud in the sky to interrupt its rays. It will be a hot afternoon as is typical for this time of year. Looking at my clock, I see it is just after nine o’clock. I slept much later than usual. I walk to the south side of my apartment and step onto the balcony. The sun feels wonderful, especially after wondering if I would ever see or feel it again. I look over Town Lake and see a lot of people on the running trails. That, too, is typical of this time of year. New students trying to get into shape to impress their peers, and returning students trying to recover their former bodies. All of them are out running, biking, and walking. These are the casual exercisers, though. It is too late in the day for the diehards to be going around the loop. Those training for marathons and half marathons and even the triathletes would have been out earlier in the cooler weather.
I wouldn’t call myself a serious runner. In fact, more recently, I have gravitated to a CrossFit workout. I am a casual runner. I enjoy 10Ks and half marathons, though mostly the former as of late. At age forty-five, I am aware that my joints have seen their best days, and I have no desire to push them to constant aching. Still, shorter running events are too much effort for the distance they cover. I don’t enter races to beat my best times; I enter races for other reasons. I enjoy the events themselves. Being around other runners feels good. There is camaraderie, a connection, with the runners at these events that is hard to explain. The events themselves cause me to work harder in my workouts than I might otherwise. For example, knowing that I am training for a 10K “mudder” in two months in Dallas keeps me motivated to run and lift throughout the dog days of summer. A mudder is an event that combines running, lifting, and obstacles, such as a mud crawl. Going to these events is also a way to meet attractive women who take care of their bodies, wear tight-fitting clothes, and have higher than average sex drives, thanks to the exercise. Waylon Jennings once sang, “There’s only two things in life that make it worth livin’ / is guitars that tune good and firm feelin’ women.” I have to believe he was in Austin when he first sang those words.
I am a serious enough runner to know that if I am going to run today, I will need to wait until this evening, when it is a bit cooler. Still, I need to get out of this apartment, and I need to burn through some frustration, even if this means a poor workout in the heat. I pick up my cell phone and contact Mike, one of my running partners. Mike typically runs longer on Saturdays, usually with our running club or with me, and he would take off Sundays. Since he doesn’t normally run on Sundays, he wouldn’t have been out this morning, so maybe he wouldn’t mind a short run with me, even if it is hot.
I suddenly think of a problem, though. I don’t have any memory of yesterday, so I wonder, did I run with him yesterday? I decide that if he refers to the two of us talking or running yesterday, I will chalk it up to memory loss from too much drinking and joke about it. Given my history, he would buy it.
“Hey, Thomas. I’m just walking into church. What’s going on?” Mike answers on the other side of the call.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that Mike. I’ll be quick. Is there any chance we could get in a short run when you get back home? Nothing big, maybe a four miler? I need to burn off some booze and food.”
With me, burning off alcohol and food is common, so Mike wouldn’t question it. Plus, this would lay the groundwork in case I can’t recall something from yesterday. I had forgotten about his church involvement on Sundays, as going to church was
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