Randon happy thought from last night

I was thinking last night before going to sleep (as is usually the case). But I was blessed with a happy thought right before I dreamed about something so awful that I won't regurgitate it in any form besides thought.

So I guess it evens out.

I thought about something Brian said to me the other day. He said that he wanted someone who would care about being fit. I never mentioned that I tend to have the opposite issue. I'll work out even when it's not wise to do so. In Korea, I came to grips with the fact that I have a chemical addiction to cardio work outs. There were times in Korea when I couldn't run. I would go sometimes for 2 weeks without a run. I began to break down mentally. I sometimes worry what will happen and whether or not I'll be able to transition gracefully from a life where I can jog to a more sedentary existence in my elder years.

I missed the "high" that accompanies jogging. I missed the whole experience of feeling my feet hitting the ground rhythmically and my lungs contracting and expanding with effort. I missed the feeling of breathing in the air and pushing it out. I missed the warm sensation in my body and the intensified physical experience of the natural world around me while I was jogging. I didn't realize how important it was to my psyche to have that because I had always thought that it would be impossible for me to become addicted to something that actually takes effort.

Then I thought about how jogging was the only thing besides singing that helped me maintain a sense of connection to myself when I was so far away from anything familiar. That rhythm and pulsing in my legs and arms and the breathing are all the same no matter where on earth I go. I was feeding my body different food and everything else felt so different that I might as well have been looking at the world through its photo "negatives", but my body still knew how to feel the same while running.

When I was jogging also, I could smell the river and the trees. It is more difficult to smell them when walking. I missed natural smells since the air in Korea was fouled by China's yellow air.

There was one day I remember vividly. It rained hard while I was jogging. I laughed because I was flashing the few other people on the trail by the river as I jogged because I wore my white t-shirt. As the river began to flood, I found myself jogging in puddles more often than not. I was drenched, but I was soooo happy. Every step was interesting because each puddle had a different depth. There were almost no people except for me on the path. The rock bridges were all flooding. It was Cat, her legs, sweat, and warm rain. No humans! (except for me of course).

I felt veiled by the dark gray sky, the trees, and the tons and tons of rain. I pretended that I was alone even though I'm pretty sure, people may have been looking out from the sky rises, which had big windows, thinking "What the hell is that girl doing? Has she lost her marbles? The river is flooding fast." Except, they'd be thinking it in the Korean language. There were too many people in Korea. I felt crowded most of the time.

I just kept going that day because it was the first good run that I had had for awhile. I had so much to think about. There were lots of stressful and unusual concerns. But if I was running, then I could breathe it out and then breathe it back in with more confidence that I'd be able to get through it. It's like I was pushing it all out into the air, asking the trees to clean it off so that I could deal with it, and then breathing it back in. Hmmm. Therapy?

I went to the place where I'd usually stop and go back to my tiny-ass apartment, but on that day I didn't. I went onto the rocks as they flooded and went right out to the center. I sat down and let the rain hit my forehead and shoulders. It felt very good. When I propped myself on the rock as it flooded, I felt the warm river waters part at the base of my back. I don't think it was the cleanest river in the world. But I wanted to be immersed in the natural world for awhile. It did not feel dirty to let the natural elements talk to me. Since the rain is so persistent there, I thought I'd cave in and listen for awhile. My efforts were well-rewarded.

Constant change is part of everything, but I saw it most vividly in the natural world in Korea. She never seems to rest. At night, Koreans are all awake. They don't go to bed until late. She has to deal with that. She barely has enough time to dust herself off and be clean and ready for the next day. The early mornings were not restful there. I usually like early mornings because they're still and it's fun to be there when anything good begins. Korea's land just seemed tired. She smelled like work and pollution and seemed to be still struggling to wind down when the morning was just beginning. She's not getting enough sleep.

Or, judging by the way I've written this, maybe I'm the one who isn't getting enough sleep. I sound like I've been hallucinating.