The Runner's Low

It was a cold night but I ran nonetheless. Always I run with the same pursuits - to better myself and for inspiration. Rarely have I not felt a sense of both. But tonight...

...as I approached the point where I am furthest from my home and the point at which I would normally sense some insight developing, I sensed something else altogether...

...My penis was frozen. And in pain.

I felt warm everywhere else. Perhaps my blood decided to abandon that part of my body. Maybe it is not so surprising considering the frigid air and my poor choice of garments to shield myself from it. This whole situation might have even been avoided had my boxer shorts kept it housed as they are supposed to.

The discomfort was unbelievably distracting. Destroyed was my ability to focus on any high-minded ideal. There would be no songs and no poems conceived during this journey for this unease demanded the full attention of my mind.

I considered making the rest of the trip home with my hand on my crotch but this would have sent the passersby over the edge since they were probably already wondering what kind of a sick fool would run in this weather.

I finally made it home and discovered I had managed to shave a couple of minutes off my time, which ordinarily would have excited me. I let out a big moan as I collapsed on the couch and began to try and transfer some of my body heat to that poor, poor fellow. As it began to thaw I thought I was going to puke. But instead I started laughing hysterically. I laughed hard and stupid. And then I began to write this all down.

Everything is fine now, by the way.

And so it begins...

I ran for the first time since the summer. I ran until my lungs were full of cold metal shards that the cold air fashioned and gave me to breathe. I ran until I was spitting up my soul.

It was a day of heavy thoughts, thoughts I went to sleep and awoke with, thoughts that occupied my mind while I sat at the window and watched the sun go down, thoughts that made me welcome the night.

I stood on my porch looking this way and that way. I could run there, I thought. There being a path that would offer solitude and safety and whatever else. Or I could choose the path that would lead me to the heart of this abysmal city, to the center of its ugliness.

I chose the latter. I chose it precisely because of its dark promises.

I ran and I came to the edge of a land where a factory once stood and employed thousands but failed and was deserted and its toxins allowed to sink deep. In time I know the earth will correct this grand mistake. Already grass has come to live there again. And there was snow from one end to the other, untouched. It was beauty right there in the lion's den.

I want love to grow here in this town, this town that is sacred to me. I want to befriend it and embrace its many sad hearts. Whatever hope and wisdom I have, I want to share with it.

And so it begins...