Didn't it get cold all of a sudden. And dark. On my jog now, it's like mid winter, although maybe not quite that cold. But cold to what it was a few weeks ago.
Thump, thump go my feet on the footpath as I try to run away from it.
Life retracts and we become smaller and paler and we curl ourselves tighter for the winter and the cold. We become smaller because of the dark, or is that lack of light.
Thump, thump, thump go my feet on the footpath.
We slide down into our shell, our cave, our mansion. We hunker down for the short days and the long nights and the dark and the rain. The never ending September rain nearly drives one batty before it is over. Before Xmas. Cabin fever they say. Cabin fever, that is what they call it. When we all get shut in for just a bit longer than is healthy for anyone. The days are so short, some days we don't even notice them come and go, buried below seal pelts and buffalo hides, in front of wood burning orange and red.
I love running with Matt, on those winter days. You know, in those little running shorts of his, getting behind him and watching his arse chew up the cotton of those shorts. Sometimes, we run with our shirts off, the two of us, and guys look at us in the Carlton Gardens. Sometimes we play up to them when it is clearly a gay guy perving on us. We make it clear we’re a couple, you know by touching each other, if they are really cute we’ve been known to give each other a kiss, but mostly we just bounce around being really athletic.
But really, we just run, mostly. Our concentration is on running and the rest of the world pretty much fades away.
Then it is drinks out for the last day of the weekend, before the dreaded Monday morning jolt back to reality thing. Yeah, clunk, that thing. Weekends can lull you into a false sense of, um, what should I call it, life being freedom and the joy of your collective decisions? Ha ha. Do you like that?
No comments:
Post a Comment