Thurber’s routine
is anything but boring.
M, T and I go out
together every morning when we’re home in Brooklyn, T leading the way.
Same time. Same
streets. Same stop for coffee. Same entrance to Prospect Park.
Nothing in Thurber’s
demeanor would suggest that “boring” is remotely possible. Especially in feral
October, the smells in the crisp, cold breeze literally lifting his spirit,
throwing a jaunt to his purposeful prance.
Occasionally, he’ll
glance back at us, slowly moving, familiar odoriferous bipeds, as if contemplating our reality.
If anything is
boring to Thurber it’s how humans walk so curiously.
Thurber’s watered,
fed and knows to sit for a treat. That’s the foundation. That makes it possible
for him to get the most out of life, to “lean” into his routine.
Me, it’s cut-fresh
fruit, regular coffee, eight ounces of cold water. Running every other day
without fail. Sparks fly in my mind. I love being on a walk with M. We laugh,
reminisce, dig into work questions, talk about our reading lives …
Routine. Every day. Why disturb this healthy, exciting
balance? (I can’t remember when I was last felled by sickness [sound of wood
being knocked]).
Thurber, though,
is my guru of capital “R” routine. Who is yours?
Next: Running for Your Life: Penmanship
