6 July

2011-07-06T13:00:00.000-07:00

Today I ran. Running has always been terrifying to me - blissful ignorance of my body's strength and failings, of my success not as a social human being but a natural entity, has been the state of affairs for some time now. The gym, with its comforting numerical analysis of my physicality, doesn't count; arriving in a car to be faced with a television and cocooned by stationary machinery is the safe option. But today, two miles of road opened up the skies. There is something inherently satisfying about propelling yourself to a destination using only your own strength and will - especially when amidst lush fields and mountains, accompanied by Grieg . It was an experience of joy and pain; I have never been so glad to return to my front door, and flying through the house to the back garden I stripped off my top layer and lay on the ground, watching the clouds as Vivaldi streamed through my headphones. I felt elated, heart pounding, and glad to be alive.

Reading is much like running: uphill exertion is balanced by a sense of beauty and, on occasion, accomplished with soaring ease. I finished Economics, by Partha Dasgupta, as a pre-Oxford exercise, which seemed not arduous but perhaps a bit of a slog: the proliferation of obvious statements, already understood arguments, and the kind of quasi-verbalised maths which I find difficult to retain, meant that end of the 'very short introduction' came as a relief. However, starting on American Politics and Society by David Mackay has been akin to racing downhill: a continuing American fascination stemming from five days in New York a few years ago makes this easy reading, and a stimulation for further interest in the States which will no doubt be enhanced come October. It feels like I'm ready to take on this new life.

More to follow

Luce.

Entrelacement

6 July