Monday Musings

- Midterms have a funny way of making you lose all motivation to do anything, even brush your teeth
- M&Ms may be more addicting than some drugs
- Correlating two people's schedules for a skype date is apparently an impossible task
- I wish the trees would stay this way forever
- Buying a new pair of Nike tights is the best motivation to go out on runs
- If you haven't listened to the Killers' new album Battle Born, do yourself a favor and check it out RIGHT NOW

“She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful & life was so short.”

― Brian Andreas

Running

Running. 
Funny how a word that used to make me scrunch up my face in a less-than-attractive way now defines almost every day of my week. And I just recently noticed how full of contradictions my running is.

I have almost always been a hater of running. It makes my muscles scream, it makes my lungs ache for air, and it completely tears me down every time my feet hit the pavement. But that's also why I am a lover of running. Call me crazy (most people do), but I think that's referred to as a "runner's high". I always thought that was some giant myth all the insane people of the world (read: long distance runners) came up with in some sort of secret society meeting to trick us normal folk. That is, until I actually experienced "the high" for myself. It's that feeling when you know in your head you physically can't go another mile, but your feet just don't stop ; you just can't get enough. It's really a beautiful thing.

I run to forget. There's something soothing about the repetitiveness of my steps, the distance from where I started increasing, and the fast-paced music blaring into my ears that help everything else fade away. When I run, I forget about that giant test I have next week. I forget that I barely ever get to see my family. I forget that I had a horrible day. But even while I'm running away from all these thing, I remember. Running reminds me to be thankful for each breath I'm given and to never take my physically healthy body for granted. Running reminds me that I've been so blessed with so much.

I run because I can. I have the physical capability, the time (mostly), the shoes, the trails, and the motivation (sometimes). But I keep running because I can't. I can't run a half marathon... yet. I can't run that fast mile time I've been shooting for... yet. I can't match pace with that one person... yet. I have never claimed to be a great runner, or even a good one. Heck, I'm barely even a decent runner. But the more I run, the more I can.

Looks like my running actually fits quite well into my life - it makes no sense.

Summertime

School at our back, sun on our face.
Nothing to worry about but sunburnt skin and sore legs.
Running, laughing, sweating, sleeping, stargazing, reading, soaking, dreaming.
Three months stretching endlessly ahead with unending possibilities.

I've been waiting for this

Another Second Gone By

time is a funny thing.

I like it, yet I hate it.
Without time, there would be no history. And I absolutely love reading and learning about history - it is beyond fascinating.
Without time, there would be nothing to look forward to - no eternity.
Without time, nothing would make sense.
And without time gone by, I wouldn't be where I am right now. And that would be incredibly depressing.

But yet... it often seems like time is working against me.
Time makes me miss things. Like my childhood. Like my sister being a baby. Like places I've been.
Time puts pressure on. It assigns deadlines, invokes panic, and emphasizes finality.
Time reveals our mortality in a way nothing else ever can.
And time makes me afraid to lose what I have. Especially in regards to relationships. Because with time, change is inevitable. And that scares me.

and the thing is, there's nothing at all I can do about time. The clock is going to keep on ticking, no matter what.
so I'm determined to cherish the time I've been given, and hopefully make it worth something.