Dualism

There's an ongoing play running through my life, balancing running and everything else that I do. My mind is naturally forward looking, and it creates interesting phenomenon that I've picked up on as I pass the time on runs, left with nothing but my thoughts.

When it's just one of those days when you're out on a base or long run, just one of those days when you're doing the work because it has to be done, when it's just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your career, those are when you think the most to pass the time. Sometimes I think academically about a philosophy I'm struggling with, or try to remember the specific intricacies of the Chinese-American financial exchange market history and its implications into the future, or maybe sometimes I think about some relationship issue or interesting tidbits of my day. The point is just to get lost in thought, delving deep into your own mind to create a catharsis as you juxtapose said thoughts with running.

Then there's just one of those days when you're going through the motions, when classes aren't super exciting, when nothing really happens of note. Just one of those days when the weather is outstandingly average, when you don't have much to do and are left with a dull sense of boredom, just one of those days that you'll never remember looking back on your life.

And you think about running.

All day.

Each is equally important to counterweight the other in a time of need. Like a crutch or splint, each can be brought out in the mind to create a diversion from the mundane nature of the other. The saving grace, so to speak.

Which, oddly enough, makes them equally as important in this light. For a passion to reach that level....is it healthy? I don't know. What if I get hit by a car tomorrow and I'm left without my escape. What if I trip and my legs never work again. What if the team is cut and I'm left to my own devices.

The fact that running is equally as important to me as...the rest of my life places my sanity on a precipitous balance, because I know there will be a time when I cannot do it anymore. My eggs are all in one basket, so to speak (again).

These are the rambling thoughts of a 12mile run in Chino hills, clipping mile after mile on an outstandingly average day, one of those days that I'll never remember looking back on my career, except for maybe the time when I had this thought.