The papers aren’t grading themselves
They just sit there waiting,
Waiting for corrections,
Comments, and
Wisdom.

They just have to wait until tomorrow
Since today has taken winter
And put it in the rear view mirror.
I’m soaking in the the early season rays
With every bit of training my cert gave me.

Reading about cold abilities
As my warm seeking sensibilities
Offer little in the way
Of winter adventure motivation.
Later today, I will run
Without the threat of hypothermia
Although, extra weight in the ruck
Will be a good indoor substitute.

Last night, a friend of mine called me a POX which is different from a COX in terms of anatomical references and existential ownership of pride and masculine adolescent judgments. I could not accept the put down, sorry hash taggers, my ego does not accept that kind of ridicule and instead of tweeting, suing, or going to some dreary chain coffee shop and crying into a latte, I maturely came back at him with a, “Your Mom,” and set out on a plan to prove him I can be every bit of COX.

I woke to temperatures that were hovering around two-degrees, which is nothing to brag about since it was way worse than that further north. Still, though, I had never run in temperatures below the teens. Today would be different, I ran, on a gimpy calf dang-it, and alone at that. I listened to my leg, wondered about my breath freeze, and even managed to smile a couple of times. It wasn’t too bad and since there wasn’t a wind, I never worried about frostbite.

As I finished the run, I could tell something is different with me. It’s those uncommon thoughts that I’ve been saturated by lately. Getting out there and being in the game and actually living has allowed me to be a COX and not a POX. Sure there is a little stupidity in running under the weather and physical conditions I’m living with right now, but it sure felt good to be called foolish by those who have motivated me to get off my duff and stick with running. After all, what’s a COX without balls? In this group, that would be a fitness eunuch, I suppose. Perhaps, ePOX would be appropriate there.

This month I’ve been exploring my relationship to apathy. I suppose I do care about a lot of stuff, more so than I thought, anyway. My grumpiness about things annoying are probably not about apathy, maybe more like boredom or insecurity. I don’t know which yet, but that’s what 2019 is all about, finding an understanding about the inner workings of this COX, the potential therein, and the journey of reclaiming a soul.

Alright, it was just a run in really cold air. Nothing too enlightening… Or was it?…

Hey, Tattoo Buddha, I got my run in. Meow…

Nine degrees,
How crazy that once seemed.
Seventeen chapters
Blew that away like the arctic breeze outside.
Running against the wind,
With the wind,
While hiding in the woods from the wind’s jabs,
At the bottom of frozen hills,
Or on short trails
Was modest by some standards,
But a start here.