Last Before Christmas
5°, light rain, 10:40 (with a wrong turn, believe it or not, so the mile itself was more like 10:36 or so).
Ruminations about hermeneutics, theology, theory, politics, ecclesiastical life… and exercise.
5°, light rain, 10:40 (with a wrong turn, believe it or not, so the mile itself was more like 10:36 or so).
At end of term, reflecting on the way that stress, frustration, tension, and exhaustion dissolve into one’s self as carbon dioxide into water; and then, when the pressure is released, great painful, racking bubbles rise up within until they work free through shuddering sighs, sobs, sleep.
I didn’t run Wednesday because I pulled a two-hour shift of adoration before the Blessed Sacrament during the night, and would be keeping vigil again at 8:00 in the morning — but the Morning Office won’t be till 8:00 this morning, so I decided today to make up what I’d missed earlier.
6°, sturdy breezes, but at 10:35, I hit my current plateau.
Strong breezes this morning, 9°, and the headwinds shifted so that I was running into the breeze more than half of the way. Still, I didn’t feel too bad (I mean, for someone who’s running and wheezing) and I came in at roughly 10:22; it’s hard to be exact, cos I fumbled with the timer again.
The fundamental condition of interpretive practice is difference. Thus, every heremenutic that aims at — or takes as its founding premise — a correctness or identity (in the sense of a an interpretation that attains conceptual homology with a given criterion, ordinarily ‘the intention of the author at the moment of inscription’) begins in the wrong direction, and inevitably arrives at sound conclusions only in unpropitious, roundabout ways, if it arrives at sound conclusions at all.
Winter reminds me of another reason I hate running: winter. Luckily, it provides a very strong incentive to get the run over with as rapidly as my boy will allow: that, too, is winter. 1°, very light breezes, 10:27.
Somehow the timer on my phone got switched from its usual straight-ahead digital timer to a simulated stopwatch during the run. As I was making my last few steps, I pulled out my phone and experienced a moment of — well, not ‘terror’, but intense concern — as I thought I wouldn’t know how to stop the timer. Luckily, I grasped the idea that anything with a red button would stop whatever was going on, so I hit the button and everything worked out.
I thought I was running at a decent pace, but I must not have been stretching out my legs enough. To be fair, that makes sense, as the pavements are coated with wet, almost-frozen leaves. Still, 10:53 was a disappointment. I slept later than usual, hence was running a bit later than usual (to have time to cool of and shower before Morning Prayer), and didn’t warm up as long. 3°, gentle breezes.