Dear Diary, Running to become

I jogged today through the Sussex countryside damp dripping wet from the 4am rain, puddles stretching across the road, sun shining on the fields, now brown and fallow, glinting through the trees magnificent in autumn attire, green red gold.

These lanes I know so well. 

I ran miles and miles and miles through them in the 90’s. Mile after mile. Winding my way to fitness, speed, endurance… Competition, fast times…

I have been back here to work. I have been here all week.

Yesterday evening Anadi joined me, and as we left the restaurant that we had supper in, I commented, ‘I remember the feel of November here… It feels like I remember.’

In the loo of the restaurant I had seen a poster advertising their New Year’s eve event for 2020… ‘I remember your event for welcoming in 2000’ I said to the owner.

I was there …

Remembering… I was there, but it is like it never happened. It never happened

The person I was is gone. The life I was leading then is gone.

And all that remains is now.

Our past disappearing like the wake of a boat.

And now, being here all week long, it feels like London and my new life there is a myth – I made it all up… A dream I had, which I have woken from and find myself back here, in these Sussex Lanes.

Jogging along my never ending running path, taking me no where.

Which is why I like it.

The road that never ends, that goes no where and yet gives me endless lessons in Zen…

Being here, now…

I have journeyed on this running road for so long, step after step; seeking the way, the direction, a destination – only to discover, there is none

The steps go no where except within.

And so I keep going running anyway, along this road I have never travelled before, to become.

More free.