I have a terrible memory. I do. That’s why I take so many pictures. That’s why I blog. I sat down tonight with the idea to “break the rules” and bore my readers (or myself) with an incredibly long, disorganized blog catching you up on all the topics I have on my list — all the races I’ve done, all the things I’ve experienced, moving, Virginia, new sports, new friends — everything. I’d hoped it would make “blogging” less of a daunting task. Then, I opened up my Escape from Ft. Desoto blog and started going over the notes. But the adrenaline wasn’t fresh. I know how the rest of my season went. I’d forgotten what some of the notes meant, and it made me sad. So, I opened the St. Anthony’s blog. I remembered more about it, but my first 5150 (and the triumphs of that day) has long since passed. Gone are some of those memories too.
And that’s why I blog. That’s why I take so many pictures. That’s why I share so much all over Facebook. I want to remember. I like re-reading things to relive emotions, moments frozen in time. Silly self-indulgence: I re-read my Facebook statuses and blogs pretty frequently. I even re-read some of my old blogs on Livejournal.
And now I feel like I’ve lost something. I know it’s silly, but I no longer feel like writing today. Not about old races, or new. Not about victories, or defeats. Not about new adventures or goals.
Today, I’m just sad that I lost those memories.
