8/12/02

I'm back, I guess. As I posted over in the LiveJournal, I've been meaning to start things back up over here, but just haven't gotten around to it. I guess today has been a sufficiently productive day that I'm feeling enough on top of things to actually take the time to write a real entry. I also have some time to kill while I digest the energy bar I just ate before going running.

So, running. I'm running a lot these days, 45-55 miles a week. It's a pretty major time committment--not only do I have to take the time to do the run itself, but then I have to cool down, stretch, shower. I also need to sleep and eat more these days. I think it's really good for me, though, because when I'm running, I spend that hour or so thinking. Before I started running, I never really spent any time just thinking. It's not that I never thought about things--but it was always sort of a background activity while I watched TV or listened to music or did various tedious tasks at work. Even before this year, I used to wear my walkman on most of my runs or run with a running partner, so thinking was not at the forefront. But I decided to give up the walkman when I started training for this marathon, and running is a completely different experience now.

What am I thinking about these days? Well, in the past couple of weeks, the prevailing nagging worry has been about a friend of mine in New York who's gone missing. This is the same friend who got arrested in Utah back in February. He's been suffering from major depression for the last five months or so. Then three weeks ago, he moved out of his apartment, gave away most of his possessions, said goodbye to his siblings and an ex-girlfriend, and told them that he wanted to be by himself for a while. They said he seemed more cheerful than he had for a long time. A week later, his cell phone had been disconnected. He hasn't answered anyone's e-mails. Nobody's heard from him for three weeks now, and I and many of his other friends are extremely frightened that something might have happened to him. Giving away possessions, saying goodbye to people and having an improved mood are all predictors of suicide.

So, throughout this time, I've been contacting everyone imaginable, collecting as much information about the events preceding his disappearance as I can, even looking into hiring a private investigator to track him down or to see if he's even still alive. You might be wondering why I, a mere friend (OK, ex-girlfriend, but we only went out for a few months two years ago) am taking the lead in this situation. Where is his family? Why aren't they doing anything? Well, I've been in touch with them, and the answer is that I just don't know. They are very worried about him, too, but I guess they just have a different way of dealing with it than I do. (Actually, I do have a few theories as to what's up with his family, but what you see here is the polite version, which is just going to have to do for the purposes of this journal).

And then there's JournalCon, which is alternately thrilling and terrifying. The thrilling part is seeing the growing list of attendees and the star-studded roster of panelists. I will go ahead and immodestly predict that this will be the best JournalCon yet. The terrifying part is, of course, not knowing who's going to be on my panel, not knowing how many people we have to make dinner reservations for, and not knowing whether we're going to end up making enough money to cover all of our expenses.

Now you know why I find a twenty-mile run to be fun and relaxing.