Night and Day

In the bright white light of midday, I ran 10-12 miles up A1A in Boca Sunday. The last time I was on that route was for the 30K in October, run in what seemed the middle of the night in windy, cold conditions. Yesterday, I took the challenge of the heat, which permeated up from the asphalt, and the distance, as long as I could stand it, with some pride, as I tipped my total for the week to nearly 50 miles. Of course I pay for it now. David works on the whole picture. I feel places deep within the tissue scream under his touch. There are years and traumas under those places, pent up like silent bombs, like torch-flames which want to consume me in their constant, edgy discomfort. I don't want to acknowledge them; I want to run through them. I don't like feeling their tired, fierce weight- I just want to forget I have them.

The night was long, but not long enough to hide in my dreams. The book I was making in one of them, related to work, was ready for it's next chapter, called "Synopsis". If this is a 'summary' or abstract, as its defined, then what am I summarizing??
What do I need to recap in order to move forward with new material? Is what exists under these hot spots the verses of my love, hardship won through loss, heartache felt from feeling the rift of time and distance and desire?

I can't wait to be out again tomorrow. It was a nightmare day at work. The faces of frustration, blame and hatred were at me, and I had little defense. The need to run is the need to control something....to give myself over to a rhythm inside of me that belongs strictly to me, to me and the earth I run upon, the sky I run into, the wide sun who carries me into the day.