When I came in from my run today one of the first things I did, after icing my ankle, was to head for my training log. No, not the kind of log people carry around for a workout, but a written log of every run, bike ride, swim, hours in the weight room, rock climbs in West Virginia, Colorado or California, cold sniff, illness, busted ankle, sore shoulder, miles on shoes, static line jump, replacing of a chain, five pound weight gain (or loss), new apartment, first kiss, big mistake, death, life... Not all, but many of the moments of my life. For years. There are 17 logs in the stack to the right. Number 18 sits on my desk. There were another 20. They were lost to an ex-wife who thought they took up too much space and pitched them when I wasn't home.
"All those moments, lost in time..."
Altogether 38 years of that stuff. 38 years of running logs, triathlon logs, Sierra Club Desk Calenders( before real running logs) and an Accounts Receivable ledger which I really miss. It was from my first year that I kept a log...1972 when I graduated from high school and went off to college.
They mark the passage of my life...
On March 13, 1996 I worked on my flexibility and ran for 30 minutes, and turned in my time sheet.
On New Years Eve at midnight 1999/2000 I can't sleep and run laps UP Washington street in Cumberland.
On June 8th, 2006 I did...nothing.
All those moments are still in my memory, but just in case...I can look them up. Well at least the last 18 years.
I've kept an electronic log the last 5 years...but to be honest, it has no soul.
I can't pick it up and feel it, see it, smell it. There are no tea stains or dog eared pages, no crisp sound when I flip the pages... On a rainy day, like today, I can grab one of the logs at random and be transported to another place and a different time. As soon as I read an entry...I can shut my eyes and see, and feel, and hear and sense all that went before on that day.
