Two episodes into season 3 of Fauda I stop to clear my head and throw some words upon the page.
Maybe to tell you that somewhere around mile 3 I felt the energy leak out of me and I thought about leaning against a tree to take a nap.
Didn’t do that because I was pretty sure I’d fall asleep and couldn’t say if it would be five minutes or five hours so I made myself go home.
Dragged my butt inside, grabbed a snack and felt like crap for a bit and then life flowed back into me.
This doesn’t happen often, but every now and then when I have been burning the candle at both ends and the middle I feel it come on.
Thought about words I have put on a few pages and whether I would add anything and decided for the time being I wouldn’t.
Echoes of Dad and Grandpa Wilner’s voices in my head, I silently said the same words, “I have said my piece.”
Echoes of other conversations floated through my head while I lay on the couch wondering where some lines begin and end and how much harder I can push myself.
Because the thing is I know I can dig deeper and go harder but I can’t do it as I used to because this almost middle aged body won’t respond as it once did.
If I want that I have to make some more dietary adjustments and tweak my workout some more because the progress on the current path is limited.
Can’t decide if I am too stubborn, too lazy or just don’t care enough to make those changes but I know the crisis isn’t motivating me to do some of that.
I want to drop the shoulder and use brute force to move things out of my way because sometimes I have no interest in anything but brute force.
Did it with a ton of boxes in the garage, threw my back and legs into it and moved it because I needed to physically test myself. I already know when I am 105 I will still be interested in how much weight I can lift.
Spend way too much time having to finesse and tip toe around other things and people.
Too much time listening to bullshit from others, not being able to use the exact words I want because it won’t serve me well.
Hasn’t prevented me from finding other ways to express it but sometimes that stuff exhausts me and I need to just get it out.
Took off in a dead run again today and wondered when I won’t be able to do it any longer.
I have felt the difference for a long time, recognized I am not able to do it like I used to, but I am not ready to lie down.
Not ready to give in on some things, some lines I will hold until I cannot hold them no more.
Memory isn’t the sole driver but neither is ego.
Some things I know so strongly I can feel and taste them.
You could say I spent more than a little time playing fireman and working my ass off to prevent situations and circumstances from turning into fires.
You could say I am proud of what I have accomplished and feel like no matter what the outcome is I can close my eyes at night knowing I did what I could.
Not a perfect man, got plenty of flaws but most of the time I can look at my reflection.
The world isn’t black and white.
There is a long list of things that people aren’t supposed to do because they aren’t socially acceptable but that doesn’t necessarily mean they are wrong.
Because if you look at those lists of what is or isn’t socially acceptable the lines aren’t uniform. So many shades of gray.
I like that because I don’t color inside the lines. It is just not who I am or who I want to be.
But this isn’t a post about society, morality or ethics so I you won’t see much in the way of philosophy other than try to be a good person and get along with others.
And with that I have said my piece here…for now.
Back to Fauda.
