Loki’s blog

FrancisFrancis!

And to think, a week ago I didn't know what color chartreuse was. Or how to spell it. Now to figure out what a tamper is for and the arcane formula which is a cappuccino. 

Running is the closest to spiritual that I become. Considering that the word 'spirit' comes from the Latin word for breath, I'm pretty happy about that.

I lace up my Nikes, jack into my iPod, break into this wide grin and begin my run. Perhaps I do six miles this time, maybe nine. Hell, I do want to get ready for that marathon by April, don't I? Maybe twelve.

I run through a state park near my apartment. I splash through the mud, pound past the dry cake, slip on the ice. I'm a four-season runner, you see. I race the mosquitoes and I always win.

While I run, I think about new ways to connect with people, understand them, relate. In a word: commune. Somewhat akin an experience as doing the rosary but without all the guilt. Answers to life's problems come to me easily as I dash among the pines.

People ask me about the health benefits of cardio, but I preach of the head benefits. When I'm stressed I run, and the peace I earn from that can not be bought any other way.

By running, I celebrate life. And what can be more spiritual than that?