Enough time to defend my trail marathon title in September? Probably. Not sure though. Not sure that I care too much at the moment, in any case. Just happy to be healing, quite quickly, quite evidently.
Looking at the pictures, and comparing. There were two cracks three weeks ago. Now there are none. Instead is a hazy callus of new bone tissue, a natural cast.
I'd say something about the body being amazing, but won't, only because you know these things already, and my words would add nothing.
Leaving the office, smiling, near giddy. Not that I expected anything different than the news I received. But even still, this had been bothering me. What's more, it had been bothering me that it had been bothering me.
Some things I've read about today:
- Over 50 people have been killed at World Cup viewing parties in Kenya in the last two days.
- As many as 15 are believed dead in a suicide bombing in Nigeria at a viewing. Can't say, because the AP just tweeted the story.
- Syrian snipers are shooting children, just because.
- Several high profile universities refused to investigate rape charges against star athletes. At least one victim killed herself.
Everywhere murder, rape, poaching, death, destruction, etc.
Sorry for mentioning that. You know it already. And I do, too. But we're callused, a little bit, aren't we? I read, because I think it matters. You do too. But then I wonder. Because we're told that knowledge is power, but what is there to do, really? To know of such horrors, every day, does nothing to prevent them. We're bombarded with "awareness", from every angle, at all times.
And perhaps - although there's no x-ray to show it - we develop calluses where these things wound us, to all of this, until there's nothing but callus. The response can just about only be nihilism, vindictiveness, or indulgence in endlessly inane bullshit.
But again, sorry for that. You don't need it. And I don't, either. In any case, this was never meant to be a socio political rant on the futility of human existence, the persistence of suffering, or whatever.
It was meant to be - and still is, I hope - an acknowledgment that things were never bad, for me. And that they certainly aren't now. I have no new ideas on how to fix the world. But I deal better with its shit when I can run every day.