Wednesday, 2 June 2010
It would be fair to say that today got off to a bad start: I woke up with a nauseating headache (I suspect I may have started getting migraines - gulp) and the general mood of the day didn't improve much from there.
Then, at 5:30 I reluctantly pulled on my short shorts and pinned back my hair - I'd intended to go for an early morning run, but was in no state to do so when 6am arrived - and I jogged out into the evening sun. It was hot, surprisingly so after the recent weather, and I was certainly feeling a little too dehydrated. But the city was alive with people enjoying the sunshine! Whifs of barbequed meat met me as I ran, teamed with the sweet scent of the colourful gardens I was passing by. Couples lolled on the grass, a girl lay by the river with a book and a bottle of cider, groups of shirtless teenagers sipped cans of Pepsi on the bridge. It felt like the whole world was there, and we were all sharing the simple joy of a summer evening. Everywhere I looked people were running, walking, cycling; a criss-cross of activity, hap-hazard and confusing to the eye.
I returned home sweaty and revived, gulping back glass after glass of water - my poor old body was suffering, pleading for some nourishment! And nourishment I was happy to give it - in the form of some of my favourite things: brown spaghetti, feta cheese and stir-fried broccolli; a plate full of summery goodness! Animal Collective blasted out of my stereo, and me and my wooden spoon had our own little disco as we cooked.
I'd planned to spend the evening with Ms Woolf. If only I had a garden! Well, I do! The whole city is my garden! I packed my book and a rug, and cycled towards the river, where I found a perfect spot to sit, read and watch the world pass by. Families were packing up home for bedtime, excitable children speeding past on their stabilizers. Lean runners swept breathlessly past, while ladies on their evening walk hobbled past in twos, shaking down their teatime calories in jogging bottoms and funny plastic shoes.
I feel as if I've recaptured some of life's magic that only yesterday I felt I'd lost. The secret is to go out and find it; it won't come and find me in my stuffy flat, that's for sure. Now I look forward to a satisfying sleep, peaceful in the knowledge that things are often much more simple than they might seem.