Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Autopilot

Today I was thinking and running, and realized that I wasn't really giving my feet any commands whatsoever.  My motor cortex was operating smoothly, without any higher thought processes, and one leg followed the other in an easy pace.  

I watched my legs for a bit, marveling at the mind's ability to partition that complex movement and choreography, while allowing me to just enjoy the ride.  I realized that if I am I'm dreaming at night, it's hard for me to start running.  My legs feel like they're encased in quicksand.  The motor cortex is inhibited during R.E.M. sleep, so I wonder if my daydreaming brain, the one that looked on while my legs cranked away, just doesn't know how to run?

It's an odd feeling to become so self-aware, so in the moment, when you realize that your body is moving, and will continue to move, without any further objections from me.  It's a different kind of self-awareness, free of the self-examination, self-judgement and self-criticism that I feel when writing, at least to my imaginary audience.  It felt good, and it was a good run. 

No comments:

Post a Comment