The beast. Awaken.

Bed, 9 am. Habs won yesterday, 3-2, great game. Went a little overboard with the vodka-lime shooters. Finished in the alley, filming buddies doing muck fights including Full Nelson catches. Throat hurting, too much laughing, screaming, what a game. A classic end: At something AM eating corn dog poutine Chez Claudette. La Totale quoi!

I love Montreal. GO HABS GO! Like many of us out here, I become a fan during the series if Le Canadien is winning. No real fidelity. This morning, I feel the fan love in my stomach. Really went overboard with that game invented by Le Raton. You order shooters (simple kinds like Tequilla shots, vodka-lime, Jack Daniels…), choose a player or two (if two, they can’t be from the same team). Every time the commentator says their name, you take a (small) sip. There are more complicated rules… I’ll skip them for now. Head hurts just thinking about it. Gionta was our guy last night. 6 sipped  shots because of Gionta. My heart loves you Gionta, my stomach not so much and my head is mad at you right now. All good. In control. Ouch, we laughed. Screamed. Head. Hurts.

Lets walk before I change my mind. Let’s face the Mountain. Surprisingly good stamina. First mud path climb, I feel the urge to dig my hands in the ground. Like an animal, I wanna grab the earth, swim in the gravel, make one with the mud. Yes, I’m an animal. A savage beast climbing this patch of wilderness. O Mont-Royal, Thou inspire ancient desires. In the heart of the city, the wild beasts awake. Crossing my path. A squirrel. I realise I’m not alone here. Awareness of other beasts. Important. Stay focused.

Now, climbing some more, a dog. Beast mojo evaporating. Civism reflexes kick in… Should I pat the thing? I don’t know how to relate to dogs I haven’t been introduced to. I tend to think I should act like I do with people. But it seems the civic code for humans and dogs is different. I envy those people who get all excited, crouch and throw their arms at alien dogs. Imagine doing that to a human stranger. Oh! you’re so cute! pat,pat, on the head. How old are you? BAD. So I just can’t get to do it to dogs. I’m a dogshy person. Am I alone in the world like that? Can we start a club, a Facebook group? (it probably already exists….)

Beast attitude completely lost. Damn dog. On top, a bed of trills (lovely white spring flowers) lifts my heart. Now I’m in a oh, OMG, this is so AWESOME mood. Birds chirping, ah! A woodpecker, hello my friend coochy coochy, the sun is shining in between the trees. I love the world, isn’t it a great place! Yes. Moody. You got the picture. Welcome to my life.

Back home. Realizing I crossed more humans than animals on the Mountain. Can’t forget I’m in the middle of the city. Urban life. It’s all good, the Habs won.

Walk on the Mountain

House. 10 am. Getting dressed for sports. Hum, already a complication. Blue T-shirt with Born to be wild written across the boobs. Cool. But, no. Lulu lemon tanktop, sexy, not cool. Straight black T-shirt.OK. Energy level, good.

Walking fast on the sidewalk. Need to push. No back aches. No knee aches. All good. faster. Man combing his lawn, wow very green lawn. Wonder if he uses pesticides. Crossing Mont-Royal street, looking out for cars with an animal rage: You cross my way, I’ll kill you. Yes, adrenaline kicking in.

Starting to climb. I push the rythm. It feels good. The greens are still struggling, flourishing will come later. I go for the quick kick, no sinuous climb for me today, I want it hard, I want it fast. Heart pumping. I feel alive. I feel adventurous and take the woods, I climb rocks and push. I turn on the trail and see a bed of spring white flowers. Lovely peace. Was so right to get out of the house and do this. I start running compelled by the beauty…ok, this is too much, although, in a way, true to the moment. Breathe. Good. Strill going uphill, half walking half jogging. No knee pain. Good. Another big bed of those flowers, white light in the shady woods. I’m in the middle of the city! This is great. Got to do it more often.

Going downhill now. Jogging faster I need to hold my breast in my hands. Yes, I need a sports bra. do they make some in leather? Hum, I’d look like a gladiator woman. Fun, sexy, but not cool. Someone with a dog crossing my way. I have to let go of my boobs. I stop jogging. Shouldn’t care but I do. Whatever. I need that leather sports bra. I’ll hide it under my Born to be wild T-shirt. Yes, good idea.

Going downhill, running heels first, helps for breast bouncing control. Wondering if it’s the most efficient way to jog. Realising I know nothing about jogging. I’ll have to go on the net and find out. Internet is great. I love internet. I’m addicted. It’s the sharing. I can share with the world. And the world listens if and when it wants to. Yes, it’s all about sharing. Solitude doesn’t exist anymore, we’ve overridden it. With internet. Busy humans. Crazy humans. never enough…