Cross-training or crossed-wires?

Long story short: I'm training for a half-marathon. Running again. Crazy. Maybe.

Fall weather, motivation, training, distractions, discipline.

Different view, training with friends, slowed to the common denominator pace, built-in walking.

Once, as an adolescent, said, "I'm so bored, I don't even know what to do. I can barely move, but too restless to stay still."

When was that? Why was that? Do I train for things because of some discontentment or restlessness? Do I over-schedule my time to avoid that terrible boredom?

What did Ursula K. LeGuin say? "This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain." Or something like that.

Wondering. Wandering. Running. Biking.

Don't suppose I can erase the discontent by running for 13.1 miles. Nor can I flee from myself by pedaling harder.

But alas. I seem to continue to try. There's contentment in that.