Run

I went for a run on Sunday - an 8k round trip that consisted of a solid 2k walking warm-up and down. It's when you're warming up, still walking, having not even lifted your heart-rate, and you realize that you're already sweating profusely that you realise the broad light of a Maningrida day is not the best time to exercise. Still, it's the best time to go - it's so hot that the dogs can't be fucked to chase you. Running at night might be cooler, but it's hard to hit your stride when you have to stop every 10 meters to kick a dog. Such training might best be suited to some kind of dog-soccer. 'Strap on you bitch boots, sports fans...'

I was dripping with sweat - there was a point where I started trying to drink the drops forming on the end of my nose, for fear that I'd sultana-ise before I got home. If weight-loss was my aim it'd've been perfect. Stripping 6 kilos in an hour would be considered a miracle for any over-weight housewife, but when it's practically one tenth of your bodyweight you're toeing the line of medical catastrophe. I was ruined - you know when you're so thirsty you're drinking the shower water to save time. Still, it hasn't appeared to do any permanent damage. Though I did piss dust for a couple of days after... It was a good run.

I've felt crappy ever since. Nothing to do with the physical exertion. I've just suddenly been hit by a bout of feeling bored and lonely. Funny that that should happen in a place so remote and isolated. It's nothing to worry about - it doesn't even really bother me. It's just how I feel. Kinda matteroffact. I'm actually surprised at how long it took for me to get to this point. I look to the return to Melbourne with growing anticipation. Time's passing so fast, I'll be back before I realise - sitting in cafes with friends, wondering what the fuck they do with their time and money, and wishing I was back in Maningrida where people seem real and ordinary shit matters.

It's difficult to get perspective in a place where most people genuinely don't realise that money comes from places other than the government - everything here is 'funded' and 'subsidised'. Stuff happens here, it's just difficult to gain access to it. People seem to keep to themselves, by and large. I don't blame them. I can feel the walls of the small community closing in on me sometimes. You know when you're just walking to work, having not even cleaned the cornflakes from your eyes, and you really don't want to have to wave to every person you pass. I want to use words like suffocating and claustrophobic, but they don't fit. At best, it's a minor irritation.

I remember walking around the Louvre in Paris (not the one in Hoppers Crossing). There are thousands of significant works there - not all of which featured in the Da Vinci Code sadly, but that book was already 300 pages too long. People say that you need a couple of days to see the whole thing. I did it in 3 hours. I appreciate art as much as the next man, perhaps even more than some men I know, but I found it awe-exhausting. Chewing gum doesn't actually lose it's flavour - your mouth just gets used to the taste and stops noticing it. The same can be said of priceless art - if you eat enough of it, eventually it'll taste like chicken... or Brett Whitely or some hack.

So, Maningrida, it seems I have become accustomed to your smile - and now I want to bang the babysitter. And when I do, and you leave me, I'll realise that I really enjoyed what I had. And after you have a brief fling with that Steve guy from the gym, we'll get back together and I'll enjoy you even more - even thought there's certain things you wont let me do in the bedroom anymore. That makes me happy. As much as I like to think about a stint in Melbourne, I like to think about coming back here and falling in love all over again. To be bored and lonely for a couple of days out of a few months is not a big deal... It's been a good run.

Post Script - A late night cigarette looking up at the stars and suddenly the relevance of this whole entry melted away... I don't know. Perhaps it was just getting it all of my chest. Or something I hadn't seen before in the sky. It made me smile. Suddenly I'm looking forward to another day. How fickle feelings can be...