eightvember

eightvember, or, How to do a Tuesday

Wake. Dress immediately into running clothes. Make small coffee. Retrieve veggie box from doorstep. Put out bin. (Having checked which fortnightly cycle we’re on.) Take fresh loaf out of bread maker (and thank previous evening’s self for the foresight to put a delayed timer loaf on before bed). Sync Spotify playlist of early 2000s Brit rock and emo. Head out for a run.

*****

I built an uphill run into the route to ‘break myself in’, which sort of worked; I got a new personal record on a very steep section a few minutes later. Why this is important to me I do not know but it is a signifier of some form of progress I suppose.

I made it to the sea where a full moon high tide was a couple of hours off, as southerly winds lashed the waves onto the beach.

Fighting against this wall of water was the outflow of a temporary pipeline installed by the water authority, apparently to prevent flooding in town. I’m inclined to believe them, based on the recent heavy rains and flash flooding. It’s just a shame they’ve made such a bad name for themselves in recent years using loopholes to legally dump raw sewage into bathing waters under the guise of it being merely rainwater run-off.

My post-run reward was a fried egg sandwich made with fresh bread.

In the evening I listened to () by Sigur Ros on CD through headphones in an armchair next to the stereo. It is at times a sonically overwhelming record. It has recently been remastered and reissued. At 71 minutes in length it is not an album I put on regularly, and it must have been five years or more since I last made the effort. It was worth it, and I particularly wanted to refresh my own ‘muscle memory’ of it – hear it as I have always heard it – before I inevitably check out the remastered version at some point.

Reassuringly, while I could not have described from memory the general course of the album before this latest listening session, there were endless familiar bits and segments and transitions and even little clicks and [im]perfections which reveal themselves under such close scrutiny as this.

It was a bit like watching a film I had seen many, many times but not watched for ages – it felt familiar, but now and then there were whole lines and bits of dialogue I felt I could quote word for word. Very reassuring.

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