I’m on a bus from Magnolia to downtown Seattle. I’m concentrating really hard on keeping my stomach together. My stomach’s sidewise momentum as the bus creaks into those silly downhill stop signs have me worried. At least the headache is gone. Greg (nomnerd), one of my oldest friends, is sitting next to me. We spent the night celebrating how we’re both finally in the same timezone. Finally! Seattle. There are so many opportunities for adventure! The Mountains. The Sound. Last night all I could think of were the trails, the climbing, the Ferries and the Cascadian Volcanos!
The air is crisp as we alight. It’s a beautiful Seattle winter morning; the sky is neon grey. We part on Pine as I walk towards the Market. I’m a bit hunched over and my torso is bloated, but I’m moving forward. I’m still concentrating on my gut. It’s surprising how the urge to yak comes in waves. Really surprising. It’s all I can think about. Just like running through mile 21 in 80F., I force myself to stand tall and my smile grows wide; it just hurts. This realization yields mixed emotions. Late morning downtown streets are no place to reset your stomach.
I’m now at the park near the Market drinking a cup of ginger beer (RGB). A runner ambles by and couple nearby exchange surprise at how a person could be so motivated to run “this early”. I really want to intervene, but my gut urges me to keep quiet. The debate my brain is having with my gut is more commonly had between my friends and I: are people really that lazy?
No way. This is America. Lots of people work really hard. Yet “I wish I could…” is such a common refrain it’s practically the national anthem. I wish I could summit Rainier. I wish I could travel to South America. I wish I could climb 5.13. I wish I could get up earlier to go running. I wish I was better at Math. These kinds of things.
Here’s my claim: Inertia comes from a type of ignorance that is really insidious: inexperience with inexperience. I’m pretty sure that the more you experience inexperience the more comfortable you are with being uncomfortable. I’d like this to be the central theme of this little journal of mine. We’ll see what happens.
Lost in my thoughts I stumble in and out of my apartment and keep walking south. The ginger beer was nice, but the only effective hangover cure I know is climbing.
Inertia is such a funny thing.