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I don't know why she swallowed a fly

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Actually, I do. It's when the little bugs and flies suddenly leap to life on an early spring day and probably inebriated with joy at being out again can suddenly fly directly into an uphill-induced, momentarily open mouth. Then down the gullet out of sheer velocity.
Anyway, after imbibing said drunken fly, I had that "There was an old lady" song stuck in my head for the next 20k, which flew by as I couldn't help chuckling at the impossible song; I am sure I looked really sane powered by a goofy grin as I flew down the hill. Or maybe the fly gave me wings.
So I am going to file this post under "nutrition".

What spring looks like. Besides the flies.

departures, returns

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How is it that we speak of "straying" from ourselves? What can you do to return to to yourself if you have strayed; how might you know if you have; how long does it take to return - and is there a point of no return?
I would love to get answers to these questions from as many people as possible.
Of course, it's possible to think about these things on a more global scale, too - like in the book The Mushroom at the End of the World, an anthropological meditation on the now capitalist implications of the pursuit of the matsutake mushroom (a book I learned only of via a review of its French translation).
It seems like we expect that we are able to fathom the consequences of our pursuits and wanderings, given our "rational minds" - even though even a single jog through the country park may begin out of several reasons, give rise to several more, so have several possibly conflicting consequences to keep track of. A mushroom, the matsutake, that was once used in a sym…

steeper

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Life got steeper in previous months: I no longer had time for blogging, or sleep. But then, I found myself two weeks ago on a literally steep mountain. For the first time in over a decade, I was running on a trail absorbed with boulders, stones, tree roots that wound around a coast, getting higher and higher - until I suddenly happened upon a large Indian family, whose little son blurted: you are going so fast! And I took their photo for them as they laughed on New Year's Eve, and I regret now that I was so deep in thought on that run that I did not ask them if they would mind sending me photos of that view, care of altitude.


It is supposed to be marathon-training season for me, but after those mountains, the very ones from my childhood, I don't see the point. I signed up for the marathon in the past two years to make sure I would train through the winter where I live now, replete as it is with winds that freeze hair. But I have come to love the days of inclement weather just …