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?


..::EnAikAY::.. said…
U r not alone my friend... i miss the old times when blogging and commenting were such an entertainment during the working days. It's not about getting the attention, it's simply just sharing thoughts and experience.

Welcome back! Happy to see u writing again.
ziff71 said…
Bro, this blog is one of the blogs which I consider the authentic runner's blog. No fret of what u shud or shud not write, just throw them in.

Keep writing bro :)
June Malik said…
U r writing again, that's what counts :)

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