I want to be outside. In my mind I think I'm elsewhere, possibly already in the Pyrenees. I want to live, and am having a very quiet and restrained feeling of impatience. I want to be out there. And it's not just my mind, it's my body; I'm craving activity and feeling a little stodgy, despite having gone out for a run last night, sometimes it just doesn't feel enough. The radio this morning was talking about how lack of exercise was as big a health risk as smoking and how the UK is kind of "leading" in this area. The guidelines were two and a half hours of *moderate* exercise a week. Maybe I'm having one of the weeks when I've not quite made that level. Except if I come to think about it, then perhaps I will come close. After all, Sunday included a 3 - 4 hour walk, yesterday a 30 minute run, tonight will be two to three hours climbing, and tomorrow will include a bike ride, as might Friday, oh, and Saturday, hmm and Sunday. It's OK, I know. I am completely insane, and yet this is weird because I thought I was having one of my better balanced days!
I kind of adore the idea of a year out and the scope for just physically being. I haven't really thought what it might do to my headspace, just a general feeling of contented anticipation at the thought of being outside in the hills days on end. There will be evenings in the van, and in towns / villages, there will be time with people and time without people, and either is fine. I will have work to do, on Open Uni (who knows how this will work out while I'm away but I'm going to suck it and see), and there are some unfinished poems which need to be tackled, shaken, wrestled with and formed into something complete.
It's a funny in between kind of a time, and I'm trying to live in the present and enjoy the now for what it is.
And somehow I'm reminded of Neil Diamond's Cracklin' Rosie:
"Play it now, Play it now, Play it now my baby"
Because I need to be reminded sometimes, it's all about now. And I'm playing it now.
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