mitchellirons

rough notes

everyday is like sunday.

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– i can’t help it.  when it’s raining out on a sunday (also, when i really, really dislike living in this town), i’m drawn to listening to “everyday is like sunday”.  the song doesn’t quite line up with the weather outside, i know, since morrissey’s song is painted with a palette of both disdain and contentment, but the lazy-dreary-wet-coastal moments he conjures up rings true enough for me to load it up in the itunes.

– on my better (i.e. productve) days, i think of starting up a website that’s all about cultural criticism.  then i remember that i’m too busy fretting about other things (read: not finishing other things I’ve started) to begin this new project.  i’ve got too many thing on the backburner already.

– i went for a run to dartmouth last night. it was pretty damn humid outside, which seems appropriate given the weather system that was approaching.  it was late enough in the night that although it was still light out when i made it to the toll booths, it was very dark only ten minutes later when I made it back to Halifax.  the bridge’s walkway was creaking in really odd ways and in only certain places last night.  between those creaks and the darkness, i was happy that i accidently slipped on a bright yellow singlet instead of my regular black (read: more fashionable, if ever there was a way) running gear.

– i wish i ran more often, but i’m bored to tears by it now.  i ran the track and i ran the trails and i ran the races and i got my medals and i had negative splits and i did my fartleks and i bought the gels and the goops and the bars and i ate my wheaties and watched my carb and protein intake and i stretched and i prodded and i hit the wall and i ran on endorphins as well as on well-balanced diets and i did it with music and without music and sometimes lance and paula and even tiger congratulated me at times on my output but it’s all coming down to a ‘been there, done that’ go-around every time i literally go around the block or the trail or the path or the city.  when i need (or want) is a car (or a plane) so i can get the hell out of here and to somewhere else so i can get some serious trail running done because i don’t really want to run anymore so much as i want to run in the arctic and in the mountains and in mudflats and in bogs and wastelands and prairie fields and deserts and in the surf and the sun and the sand and the rock and in keji or in gros morne or banff or the lake district or in Joshua Tree or tierra del fuego but anywhere but here.

– that’s all.  i wish there were more, but i don’t feel the motivation today.

a rush and a push and the land that we stand on is ours.

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Written by mitchellirons

August 23, 2009 at 12:09 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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