The Theory of Everything

I'm sitting in the evening in front of The Theory of Everything & even though I know how it ends, how it is, I literally can't take the loss of control of limbs. And it's hollywood-emphasis, so of course there are relations pushed to the brim of monogamy's elasticity, but I couldn't just accept it, and I cried for what I understood as helplessness. I think this was only a door, because when I'm sad I filter through a list of things I'm potentially sad about, and thus deepen the sadness to a self-annihilating level of mood. Good, only, in the sense that it all comes together in a boom, but difficult in that you have to navigate what feelings attach to what stories you've told yourself. I'm sitting in the evening in front of The Theory of Everything & I think it's about Hawking, but it's really about this illusory number. This number means everything & nothing, which meant nothing before it, and will mean nothing later. Sometimes I wonder if what I want is because to not want is lonely. Or dull. Until I am outside of it and realize that that blind-following, blind-hunger, blind-ethic is real. The want is real. I'm not just falling, or happening upon, I'm choosing. I forget that I choose.

A few dayz post CIM, USATF followed IAAF's easing on some of the OTQ's, moving the OTQ Marathon B Standard to 2:45 from 2:43. I'm proud of the effort I put in, but it's weird. Gunning for 2:43 is a different race than gunning for 2:45. I can't imagine the other various emotions - of those a second off from the new standard, of those who barely missed the OG OTQ & have now made it, the immense heartbreak and now, the immense elation. For those who haven't been training, having set aside the dream, and who might begin training now. For those currently injured, who just have to heal and run that one last race with the knowledge that they'll proffer from a better per/mile avg. I wish they would have left it alone. I felt more powerful being that kind-of-limited. Not that I'm not limited now. I just liked that there was this number set for years; I don't want that number to be liquid, suddenly, without opportunity to adjust. I didn't know how much it bothered me until I watched Hawking, and then I used Hawking as a mask for my sadness & then I had to navigate through the idiosyncrasies to find my truth. Soo

to kind of just pretend everything is just I sought distraction via girlz wknd in Seattle. We went to the Black Bottle gastrotaven, shared a bottle of red over lamb meatballs, sumac hummus, farmers market roasted vegetables, fried tofu with peanut sauce. Afterwards we had a few drinks at Bathtub Gin & Co., a dark-lit former boiler room with leather sofas in varying browns & some Wales hanger-on'r who loved to overhear our gynecological musings. The craft cocktails were kitsch and hip: sipping the Bearcat (scotch, zucca amaro, strawberry jam, lemon & bubbles) & others. At the same time Red was watching his father and breaux play hockey from the birds nest, in front of rolling weiners, hot, and chili bubbles. We reunited the following for christmas shopping & beers at Hellbent Brewing Co., trying every beer on the menu (*Rudolph's Nuts Winter Ale, Jasmine Wheat, Dry-Hopped Oatmeal Pale, Funky Red Patina, Hellbent IPA, *Hella Bent Imperial IPA & *Freaks Come Out at Night Pumpkin Ale). * = Favorites. The venue is beautiful, cool-toned wood, exposed process, bottle-chandelier, the beer awesome, and Red knows the idea-man, so it was fun to support the biz.

Sunday Hawks 10 am Friendsbrunch at the Morrison's, where they made us eggs, fried potatoes, sausages, jizz-worthy monkey bread, donuts, coffee with cream liquor, mimosas, Sunnyland IPA in the keg-fridge pulled up to the sliding glass door so that we wouldn't have to get wet to get brew. A winter-ale tasting (Elysian, Kulshan, Boundary Bay, etc.) where I dominated and won the coveted, phallic-adorned champion ornament. Afterwards I became what Red calls Christmas Courtney, crafting over tea. And all of this makes me quite full, but still there looming is a number I didn't reach.

The greatest worth is self-mastery.
The greatest precept is continual awareness.
The greatest medicine is the emptiness of everything.
The greatest patience is humility.
The greatest effort is not concerned with results.
The greatest meditation is a mind that lets go.