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A lover of the liberal arts, especially antiquity in its diverse forms, I am nonetheless wholly devoted to, utterly transformed by divine revelation. I seek to know the thought of the past, articulate my deepest longings aroused by the wise, and understand the uneasy relationship between reason and revelation; all for the sake of proper action and contemplation, both now and in the future.


Running Again

I have been running on and off for almost ten years now; mostly off, I'll admit. But getting accepting to Josephinum put a burr in the saddle to make this wretched, treacherous body of mine perform to the best it can, for I am a seminarian in the Church, and so my body belongs to the Bride, not myself; therefore I must forge it into the best possible instrument for the Blessed Mother. So I began running again.

On the third or fourth day of running pathetic, short distances (approx. .3 miles), I learned how to breathe for the first time in my life, and felt like I could go on forever (though I likely wouldn't have made it over two miles, and it would have been good fortune to hit one). I doubled my distance the next day, so now I'm running .6 miles. Monday I shall run .6 miles twice a day, morning and evening, five days a week. Thus it shall be my custom, each Friday evening, to log in my mileage. This was the intro week, so I only did 3.6 miles. I'm hoping I hit 6 miles next week, at .6 miles twice per day five days a week.

It feels great. As if feeling closer to God than ever weren't good enough, I get so darned happy when I run it's like I'm on drugs. It's like grinding levels in a Final Fantasy game, where Level 1 might be a hundred yards, and Level 100 might be several hundred miles. I'd estimate I'm at Level 3. And yes; on Thursday, when I doubled my distance, I felt as if I leveled up, with celebratory JRPG music and everything.

Life is good.

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