I’m on a roll with the writing tonight — technically this morning. It’s ten minutes to 2AM here.
Just recently, I’ve started jogging with friends. Not to lose weight, on my part, but “for endurance,” as my friend had said. True, but I’ve thought deeper, what about a personal goal? I’m a writer, and the smallest things get me writing. I practically gain inspiration from an ant carrying a grain of rice.
Not too long ago, about a minute perhaps, I went through this Freshly Pressed blogpost about running. Turns out, it was a book by Haruki Murakami. It seems pretty interesting, and I do agree. The thought of “How do you balance being an athlete and a writer?’ piqued my interest very much. I’m not that much of a runner, honestly, any sport does me no good apart from Taekwondo. Being handicapped to do so, I resorted to other things, like writing, which has become a beautiful thing for me.
I’ve just begun to run laps and internalize the fact that I jog to get out of the house and escape boredom, but in the long run (no pun intended), I think it would be nice to get something else out of all of this. And it’s getting more ideas and inspirations to write while running. Evening jogs are lovely, and again, I tend to romanticize things, and this is no exception. The orange hued street lights and silhouettes of joggers, leisurely and athletic alike give me a lot of thoughts for stories, but in a jumbled manner. I’ve yet to find the perfect night and the perfect story.
What a segue I’ve made, when all I wanted to do was blog about how this new hobby of jogging has gotten to me. On a related note of hobbies, I’m finally going to learn the instrument I’ve fallen in love with – drums. I’m doing and accomplishing a lot of things this summer, and it’s definitely a fulfilling thing.
Jogging is a physical task, but for a writer, the jogging happens up in your head.