Sunday, August 17, 2014

walk don't run

Wasn't that the name of a movie? I walk. I don't run. Pretty much never have run except as a free-range kid or on a ballfield or when pressed for time or in a basketball game in youth or around Westover School in Stamford, Connecticut, when my brother Jack and I would time the quarter-mile with a stopwatch I still possess. I ran in the woods, cross-country, a few times in high school. For a time, only a brief time, I "jogged" during the jogging craze in the Seventies. When various companies I had worked for participated in the Chase Corporate Challenge and I was asked to join the herd, I'd say, "I wouldn't run out of this building if it were on fire." What do runners run to or from, if anything? I loved seeing and hearing Jackson Browne in person last week. I love the lyrics of "Running on Empty." He sang it. I got it. I get it. I am a walker. It is more the speed of life as it is. Not really. But it's a scale and speed I can handle. I like to walk. Form metaphors as needed or wanted.

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