Disclaimer

I have missed writing terribly. In the past times I'd go back to the first months this blog was created, and read the lines in its naivety. I didn't know what a Full Marathon was, or any particular shoes to buy. I certainly did not line runs after runs on weekends, and definitely not thinking of multi-sport, and leveraging my buying power into the new pair of shoes instead of the dining chairs my wife had wanted so much. I wrote to zero audience then, and I was blind to feeling vulnerable to put myself bare in the limelight. It was a silent diary to record my  feeling at the very moment, and record the things I did and needed to do to lose weight. Much similar to the diary I had back in primary school, which I kept for English classes (and used as a mechanism to polish my English). But over the years, I have lost half of that fun, after everything I wrote screaming for attention, or at least fashioned to demand friendly comments.

I know that am not a novelist. I am not a story-teller. I am an office rat. I grew up not having to entertain anyone. I am just a guy who happened to discover something ought to be discovered 20 years back, like stumbling into a treasure chest which lies half exposed by the beach. Certainly there is nothing new to sweat it out - 99% of my school friends did just that. I just needed to go to the beach.

I lost track of myself some time ago. Priorities came piling up, and in the end I managed a minute-to-minute event. The image of who I wanted to be is sometimes smudged, and mostly ended with a romantic visual of me running a sandwich store. Looking at it, it is one of the scariest moment I could imagine being at this point of my life. After all, I have 3.5 souls counting on all the actions I do every single day. And I can be a lot careless with my judgments, my Finance Minister would agree.

And I lost track of this blog, this particular space when ramblings are acceptable, but not a private venue to express the darkest secret, and the deepest sorrow. It succumbed to become a half-forced happy place - even times a self-made podium. Understandably, it is bleeding hard to keep logging away when you actually move/run/swim everyday without coming across to sounding brash and bragging. It is challenging to emotionally reflect on things, and whatever everyday, talking about the ambience on the run - when I mostly don't think about a lot of things when running everyday. The head is filled with mileage demands, keeping score of all the nagging pains, of where to run next, and sort my To-Do-List. 


But in blogging, I felt I have gone away with many friends reading too far to step back and be emotional about petty, personal stuff. Blogs, it seemed, when writing for a group of avid readers - should be most times silent of personal angst. Running, it seemed, should balance personal negativity onto the tarmac, and into the drain. Really?