Jogging Big Year: 200 kms to go

1,500 kms done, coupla hunnerd left to do. Strange, stray emotions hit me every time I lace up my joggers. The other day I experienced a longing to be done with the whole damned thing: “I am just so sick of subjecting myself to this again and again.” Another day, slogging up a hill, I felt almost weepy: “How can I stop doing this sublime thing?” The only other time I’ve been as rigorously disciplined was in my corporate years, and that was different, an all-consuming “career.” This geeky, self-imposed discipline sits on my shoulders as a burden, yes, but I have always felt, since January 1, that it’s also a godsend, something in this uncertain life that I can cling to.

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