Friday, January 8, 2010

And miles to go before I sleep

Whose woods are these I think I know
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening - Robert Frost

During my run today, I think I grasped what Robert Frost may have been feeling when he wrote Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. It is kind of how I felt today on my run at lunchtime. It was a beautiful day for a run. The students haven't returned from break, the frigid air kept most of the resolutionist runners off the trails, and all was quiet.

This is why I run. Well, one of the reasons. But it is why I prefer to run on trails. Today I was alone. Alone on the trails surrounding campus, alone with my thoughts. I should be the most mellow person ever with all of the relaxing activities I have picked up and swapped with old, stressful activities.

Instead of having a drink or two after dinner, playing the piano is so much more rewarding. I've become better and better. It is so satisfying learning not only how to play a dulcimer but about its history. Instead of having a drink or two and then falling asleep - unrestfully - I'm doing things. I'm playing board games with my kids. We are talking. Talking!

I do not drink to become drunk. I don't like to be drunk. I drink because it numbs me enough that my mind rests and that I can fall asleep. But one drink, or two, I find that life is so much better, my sleep is so much deeper, my enjoyment, motivation, and execution of running is so much stronger.

But yet, to maintain this feeling, I have so much longer to run.

And miles to go before I sleep.

No comments:

A torrid love affair

 I've written about the ducks quite a bit. It's a little like Peyton Place around here I think. A couple of months ago, the male d...