Summer | unscripted 2017 - #5 Stride

Not my dog.

Stubborn CJ barely breaks a trot. Sniff, pee. Pounce lizard. Lie down. Like dragging a cinderblock on a leash. He runs if the path is wide and clear; narrow, rocky, steep, brambly—no go. His legs are moving but his heart ain’t in it.
 
Today we walk—notice, incubate.
 
I require running’s kinesthetics: body-creativity connection charged with rhythm of faster footfall, full bellows of breath—precursor to language.
 
Are you waiting for work conditions to be ideal? My husband says. Ouch.
 
My constant challenge: give in to the erratic metronome of life, ignore the insistent clock. 
 
Take the next step.