December 6. Ran six two-minute sprints by the riverside. Afraid of the effort, afraid of running up against my limit, afraid of the pain that is the only way to get back into shape. And it’s always “back into shape”. You’re always in a state of having lost something that you presumably already had. It’s never “continue to be in shape”. Moderate wind from northeast, causing a drag of about 15 seconds per mile when going up against it, and a similar push downwind. Two minutes is a strange sprint interval. It is long enough that you forget it will soon be over, and then it suddenly is.

It is not just about making maximum use of the time in a day by strict commitments. You also need the elasticity that allows you to be creative in the first place. I’m careening through this at this point, but that’s okay.