It happened this morning, I raised my head up off the pillow and looked puzzled at this strange shimmering light that was playing over my bed. It was, of course, the sun. If you are here in Wellington you will recall that for nearly the last week grey clouds have stretched to cover the entire expanse of our sky. Not only this, they brought with them all manner of foul beasts. A light spattering of rain was one, followed by that slightly heavier dribble overnight(you might not have noticed this, as you should have been sleeping[or intoxicated]). Throughout all these tears of god came that for which Windy Wellington was named. Yes, The Wind. Not just any wind, The Wind of Wellington; It doesn't just blow, it blows from many different directions and all at one time. Now that you see what I have been enduring for nearly the last week I think you can understand why this apathy was such a hard thing to shrug. This morning though, a Sunday, I succeeded. I woke early, well, before lunch time; and leapt out of bed with the covers falling to the floor behind me. When I say this I mean I kind of rolled and hit the floor, barely getting my feet beneath me, and ambled to the kitchen to find coffee. Of course this was after I noticed the beauty of the sun then, while waiting for coffee, I think I decided to go for a run. I say 'I think' because I can't be sure as I was in that 'somewhere' state that exists between coffee and life. Anyway, that's how I managed to banish the apathy. For today at least.
Once I'd managed to deal with that whole apathy episode, you'd think going for a run was going to be just as easy as strapping on those running shoes, you know, those ones with the continuous scowl? Yeah, them. It should really be that easy. If it was a cartoon it perhaps would. Just strap those puppies on, at this point they would give a happy little bark the camera comes in for a close up(of a drawing?) and then I would start running. Perhaps to face my nemesis, some evil guy in dark purple armour with red glowing eyes, at about the half way mark. But I'm not in a cartoon. If I was then training would not be necessary, I would be able to just turn up at the starting line and, because I am the good guy, I would be able to not just run the Marathon de Sade(I'm trying to humanize the event, but that's another post) but I would also be able to win. Never mind I would be racing against locals that have lived in the desert for their entire lives, perhaps fighting and struggling to survive, where I've only been fighting and struggling with my waist line. Anyway, I ramble. The point is that as soon as I threw off the cloud of apathy I had to contend with the mist of procrastination. This meant that I spent my entire day studying instead of going for a run. Until 20 minutes or so ago when I asked my wife if I was able to just not go for a run and got a firm NO in reply. Instantly the mist of procrastination was cleared and I could see exactly where those scowling running shoes were sitting. Now I've just put them back in their homes and I swear I could see something else in their eyes this time. It looked a little like the gentle spark of innocent hope.
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