Things I think about while watering plants:

The problem with blogs is that most of them–this one included–are self-centered, ego-driven missives of (hopefully) rather short length. Go see this movie/read this book because *I* liked it. Here’s what *I’m* thinking. In an era where we bemoan the entitlement feelings we see in our children, we simultaneously tell them that the world, yes, revolves around us. Is it any wonder they feel the center of their own universes? Some of that is, of course, just a normal growing up expansion of boundaries. But too many of us never outgrow it.

Perhaps this drive to share our own feelings is an expression of the child within all of us. “Look at me! See how well I can write!” That’s my own little voice. Perhaps yours says, “World! World! Let me tell what just happened to me!” or “Hey, wow, you gotta see this!” (which translates to: “Look at me! I saw it before you did!”). Even worse, though, are the marketing-driven blogs geared to surreptitiously sell us something. I feel dirty, used, when a blog sinks to that level. (An occasional mention of something doesn’t count here–I follow several authors’ blogs and I’m glad to know when they have a new book out. But if every blog started with “You can buy my books here and here and over there” I’d lose interest before I found the little x to close the site.)

Very few blogs cause us to think about things in new ways or teach us something. Note I didn’t say “lecture” anywhere in that sentence. If it’s not a teacher telling us what to do, it’s that damn little voice inside our heads. Most of us don’t need more lectures, just more learning.

Reaching out to see things from another point of view is difficult, especially when we’re all wrapped up in our own minds. Could I borrow your mind for a while? Just to see what it’s like. And, come to think of it, that might be the appeal of some blogs. I *can* see what you’re thinking suddenly. Or at least what you want me to think you’re thinking. I sense a do-loop in there somewhere.

And my last thought while watering plants? Damn mosquitoes.

I’ve signed up to do the Walt Disney World marathon/Goofy Challenge* in January 2012 with my younger sister Katie (younger as in almost 15 years younger–still a kid). Right now, 6:30 a.m. on a Tuesday in August, all I want to do is crawl into bed and ignore my impending doom. I *know* I have to train, I just don’t want to. It’s hot out there, and buggy. I have a corn on my toe and it won’t go away. I have lots of work to do, and I want to get some writing down. I even have to run to the grocery today, which always takes at least an hour out of an already packed day.

I know that by running (defined as slow jog for 1 minute, walk fast for 1 minute–yes, a slow jog and a fast walk are about the same speed. Don’t ask.) I’m doing all sorts of good things for my body. And probably my mental state (though you couldn’t prove it by my current attitude). Logically, this is stuff I know. Emotionally, I want to curl up with a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts still warm from the oven and say to myself, “Nobody lives forever. Enjoy it while you can.”

I need to find some path between these two extremes. I suppose what I’m doing could be considered somewhere in the middle–I could be running 5-minute miles, for example, instead of 13-minute miles. Still, it’s a balancing act. I guess it’s just a matter of priorities. Right now, today, I will run 3 miles. Tomorrow I might eat the Krispy Kreme donuts. One day at a time. And isn’t that what any of us do, all day long, every day?

*The Goofy Challenge is 13.1 miles on Saturday (3.5 hour time limit) and 26.2 miles the next day (7 hour time limit). I’ve done it twice before, once within the time limits and once not quite so fast. My fastest ever marathon time was 6 hrs 43 min. I’m aiming for 6 hrs 30 min this time.