I’ve kept a diary, journal, or blog of some sort for the majority of my life. And every single one of those has never reached the end of notebook or been a blog that hasn’t ended up deleted. I think my fascination with cataloging my thoughts started from books I read as a child. I remember becoming obsessed with the Amelia’s Notebooks and Harriet the Spy when I was in elementary school and carrying around my own composition notebook to make observations of neighbors and paste magazine pictures into. Then I was introduced to Anne Frank in middle school, Sylvia Plath in high school and saw the caliber of writing that was possible for a girl my age.
I remember keeping a journal of sorts in a word document for a while in high school, then having a live journal (which I sometime regret deleting – I would love to revisit my super angsty writings I posted under the user name the_upbeat, as both a reference to my attempt at being a drummer and to be ironic about the content, perhaps the_downbeat was already taken). I kept many physical journals through college which most sadly contain either the chronicles my daily food intake, weight and subsequent self-hatred, or garbage about boys I was dating. Again, all of these end abruptly when I no longer felt that journal was exactly what I wanted it to be. I started a wordpress a few years ago in graduate school that I tried to keep about running and nutrition, but I never was particularly dedicated to training so that fizzled out as well. And now there’s this, which could very possibly suffer the same fate.
This topic came into my head as this weekend I retrieved the last of my things from my ex’s place, the box of journals being one of them. I don’t have any desire to open them and read them – I shudder at the atrocious writing and content I’ll be sure to find, but I find it hard to get rid of them. So I carry this box around from apartment to apartment, shoving it in a back corner of a closet to remind me that I lived and have felt the need to write about it since I was about 8 or 9 years old. I wonder why that is? That so many humans are compelled to put down on paper (or html) these thoughts that fire around in our brain? I am sure much of it has to do with self-preservation, but also as a way to fully articulate and expel those thoughts. Reading well written personal blogs, any kind of daily log, or published journals has always been a great interest of mine. I love to hear about the mundane going ons of ones life and have regularly fallen down the rabbit hole of reading a significant portion of a blog in a few hours.
So as far as my daily happenings of late – my 5K is approaching in 2 weeks and I should probably set a goal. I have run a 28:49 5K on the treadmill lately, and my ‘standing PR’ from 2011 is 26:01. I think I could definitely shoot for 28:00 on this course. It looks to be a completely flat and rectangular course around a parking lot (thrilling, I know) and I definitely can put a bit of competitive pressure on myself during a race. I’ve put it out there now. Can’t make a fool of myself! I haven’t done any running since Thursday when a sinus infection struck me face first. I am planning to get some miles in today, hopefully outdoors and not on the treadmill, but with the recent snow I might chicken out. I need to just find something to cover my nose, I hate that tingly-about-to-sneeze feeling one gets from cold air.
Another thing I’d like to do (Duran you’ve inspired me) is include current music that gets me through the days. There is something about music that can easily transport you to a certain time in your life. I can’t listen to Rilo Kiley’s Under the Blacklight without thinking of junior year of college, or Florence and the Machine’s Lungs without imagining setting up reactions in my fume hood in grad school. And with that…..
Anything Death Cab for Cutie
Beyoncé – Drunk in Love
Edward Sharp & the Magnetic Zeros – Home