leftovers: peeling back the layers - with moya...

Sit, Moya, sit, honestly son, did you think a runner would give up running, just for a little injury, oh Moya, have a whiskey, runners run, they run out until they run out, this is why it is called running, why they are called runners, honestly, did you think a little knee pain or hip strain or existential crisis would do it, the only bigger fool than the runner is the reader, the reader who thought one injury should do it, one injury is sufficient evidence, judge and jury indeed, ruling on the verdict, cease, cease, to cease running, the injury says, I say it takes a hundred injuries before one stops running, perhaps even death, otherwise a runner isn't a runner, a runner must run, and always run, on and on and on, what else is there to do, Moya, even I don't spend the entire day talking, even I don't spend the entire day drinking, drinking these whiskeys, I have my hobbies too, Moya, I find things to do in this city, in the middle of this city where people save up all year, all life, their dollars and pounds and euros, save save save, depriving themselves of simple pleasures and joys like this whiskey, do you not like your whiskey, Moya, drink up, drink up, save up, save up, all year, to come here, as the tourist books say, look at all the things to do in Boston, come ride the duck boat, come walk the river, come and sit with me, sit here with a whiskey or sit on the platform and wait for the 'T', late again, Moya, always late, but for me, I wake up, nice and early, I wake up and review my reading or write these blog posts or pack a lunch and wonder to myself, I wonder if my watch is broken, Moya, I wonder how it could only be ten AM, but I don't just go buy a new watch, I don't just throw it all away, maybe I'm wrong, maybe I need to do better, and that's the problem, Moya, that's why a runner runs, because why throw it all away, why after just one injury or two, what if the runner is wrong, not injured at all, then what, then what else is there to do, even in this town with so much to do, about which many bookshelves are filled with tourist guides, about Boston, come to Boston, and yet even the busiest resident must run at least once per weekend, Moya, otherwise what else would you do, what else is there, Moya, to do except run, a little bit, looking for something better to do with my spare time, I don't even know what time it is Moya, what time is it, maybe time to find something better to do with my time...