About Sprinting And The Good Life

Post 238:

            A lot of people call themselves planners. Okay. But of all the labels one might adopt, this has to be one of the most boring in existence.

            To each his/her own.           

            I had a roommate in college that had this huge notebook where every part of every day was planned out. The guy was incredibly busy, so it made sense. But still, being me, I was forced to mock and deride him for his literal by-the-book style of living.

            But he got things done. More than me. At least more consistently. I’m a work hard, play hard guy, more of a sprinter than a cross country type.

            Being a sprinter is fun, but there are disadvantages. A lot of the time you’re spent doubled over in pain, huffing and puffing. That’s time when the joggers are moving along.

            And the older you get, sprinting gets harder and harder. Father Time and all that.

            One more thing about the mapped out, slow and steady. I imagine it doesn’t always feel like a race. I bet that’s nice. The sprinters can’t help but feel like the guy in lane five is going to kick their ass. It can be stressful.

            I don’t know the way to go here. My mind works one way, yours another. Aristotle would probably recommend a tonic of both styles, worked out in perfect harmony. A Golden Mean, a recipe for the happy life.

            But what did that guy ever do, besides make plans? Oh yeah. Everything. Sorry A-dog. Cheers. Have a good run today. See you after.