That's why I kept going last Thursday when I sprained my ankle twenty minutes into my most ambitious walk to date, and finished my entire two hour planned circuit. I paid for it the next day, but damn did it feel good.
And I was rewarded. If I hadn't pushed through, I would have missed so many charming sights � an elderly Chinese man enjoying a sandwich while a dozen pigeons stood nearby playing casual but obviously just waiting for him to make a mistake; a woman walking eight dogs, all but one for friends; the season's first butterflies.
Only disappointment I'd filled my pockets with nuts and for once saw not a single one of the over-friendly squirrels of Mount Pleasant cemetery.
I have a plan. I'll have a dream soon too, but for now, a plan is a good ambition.
The plan: well, I'm hoping it's not a five year one. It's going to take a while to accomplish, but I'm hoping a month at the outside. And I'm giving myself a ten-day test drive for a trial run.
It involves a box I have been carting around with me for, oh, a lot of years. It's full, and gets more full every year, of journals and notebooks, each of those full of ideas, sketches, scenes, and poetry.
There are so many now I've actually become quite frightened of starting the huge job I'm making for myself, a depression-diverted marathon: typing all that text over onto my laptop.
Ten days, I promised myself. To start. To get a feel for how much I can type and how quickly, and how pleasantly distracted I might end up in the process, creating new writing to compliment the old.
Currently, I can comfortably do four hours a day of work. Now, when I say "work" I don't mean the part of the writing process involving thinking or making notes while doing research. I mean flat-out, straight ahead key-pounding.
Putting in that amount of time, even with my decent words-per-minute, I estimate I'll still be typing my journals when I get to Grandma Moses age. And that's just not acceptable. I want to be making feature films and publishing novels while I'm still young enough to answer fan mail...
Not to get too far ahead of myself.
So here's what I'm going to do. Tomorrow, four and a half hours. The next day, five. I'll get up to eight, and then I expect I'll probably top out from carpal tunnel potential exhaustion. Or maybe not. I'll start taking realistic lunch and dinner breaks, and pace myself with my walks.
I actually can't wait.
Wish me luck!