Chapter 2 Chapter One

Chapter 1 Kauai, Hawaii, August 5, 2005 Who can laugh at Mick Jagger? Today is Friday, August 5th, 2005.Kauai, Hawaii.north coast.The sky was clear and bright.There is no cloud.Not even a hint of the concept of clouds exists at this point.I came here at the end of July, as usual, rented an apartment, and worked at my desk in the morning when it was cool, such as writing this article right now, about running and freedom.It's summer, and of course it's hot.Hawaii is often said to have four seasons of constant summer, but after all, it is located in the northern hemisphere, and the four seasons are generally available. Relatively speaking, summer is hotter than winter, but it is as sultry as Cambridge, Massachusetts, which is surrounded by red bricks and concrete. The comfort here is heaven in comparison.Air conditioning is not needed at all.Just open the windows and the cool breeze will blow itself into the house.When the people in Cambridge heard that I was going to spend August in Hawaii, they all expressed their surprise with one voice: "It's clearly summer, but there's something wrong with rushing to such a hot place?" The trade winds (trade winds) blowing intermittently make Hawaii cool; Such a life makes people feel so happy.

After arriving in Hawaii, I still run every day.Unless absolutely necessary, persist throughout the day without interruption.It has been two and a half months since I started this kind of life again.This morning, I put the MD, which recorded the two albums "Daydream" and "Song of Love" by the "Full Spoon of Love" band, into the Walkman, and while listening to it, I ran for an hour and ten minutes. Now is the time to accumulate running distance with perseverance, so don't worry about your grades right now, just spend time silently accumulating distance.If you want to run faster, you can speed up appropriately, but even if you speed up, the time is very short, and you just want to keep the pleasure you feel in your body until the next day.The essentials are generally the same as writing novels.Where it seems possible to write down, stop decisively, so that it is easy to enter the state when you start again the next day.Ernest Hemingway seems to have said something similar: Persistence and undisturbed rhythm are really important for long-term work.Once the rhythm is set, the rest can be solved.However, to make the wheel of inertia rotate accurately and at a certain speed, one cannot be too careful about persistence.

During the run, there was a short rain, which was a rain that cooled the body down just right.Thick clouds floated from the sea, covering the sky above, and there was a light rain, as if "I still have something urgent to do", and just went away forever, without even having time to look back .Then the eternal, unobstructed sun, scorched the earth again.You will find no incomprehension or ambiguity in this simple weather, neither metaphor nor symbol.On the way, I met several joggers, the number of men and women was roughly equal.These grounded, imposing and energetic runners looked as if they were being pursued by a group of burglars.There are also obese runners with half-closed eyes, wheezing and panting while running, shoulders sagging weakly, and suffering from pain at a glance. Diabetes may have just been diagnosed a week ago, and the attending physician tried to advise them to keep on doing physical exercise every day .And I'm probably somewhere in between.

"Full spoonful of love", the music of the band will never tire of listening to it, it is the kind of music that does not exaggerate itself needlessly.When I listened to this calming music with concentration, all kinds of things that happened to me in the 1960s came to life bit by bit.It's the little things that would have been cut out at the editing stage if someone were making a biopic of me (it's creepy just to imagine it). "It's okay to delete this little episode, although it's not bad, but it's too common." I'm afraid others will say so.Yes, it is this kind of insignificant and ubiquitous little incident, but it has its own meaning to me and is a useful memory.Maybe when I recall such trivial things, I will unconsciously smile or look serious.So, at the end of all these odds and ends, I am here today, stranded on the north coast of Kauai Island.Sometimes when I think about life, I feel like I'm just a driftwood that washes up on the beach.The trade wind blowing from the direction of the lighthouse rustled the tops of the blue gum trees.

Since I started living in Cambridge, Massachusetts in late May of this year, running has once again become a mainstay of my daily life.I run pretty seriously.If you have to cite specific figures for illustration, it means running 60 kilometers a week, that is to say, running 6 days a week and running 10 kilometers a day.Originally, it is best to run 10 kilometers a day, seven days a week, but some days will rain, and some days will be too busy to spare time because of work, and there are also times when you feel tired and don’t want to move, so the pre-set A "day off".So, 60 kilometers a week, about 260 kilometers a month, for me, this figure has roughly become the standard of "serious running".

In June, according to this calculation standard, I ran exactly 260 kilometers.In July, the distance began to increase. I ran 310 kilometers, no more than 10 kilometers a day, and I didn't even rest on the weekly "rest day".Of course, it doesn’t mean that you run 10 kilometers every day. Sometimes you ran 15 kilometers yesterday, so today you only run 5 kilometers. On average, it’s 10 kilometers a day.Moreover, according to the jogging speed, every hour of running is roughly equivalent to ten kilometers.To me, this level is pretty "serious" running.After coming to Hawaii, I also maintained the rhythm of ten kilometers a day.It has been a long time since I ran such a long distance continuously.

Summer in New England is far more difficult than those who have never experienced it imagine.There were cool days, but unbearably hot days soon followed.It's fine when the wind blows.As soon as the wind died down, a mist-like moisture wafted from the sea, wrapping you like a thin damp cloth.Running for an hour along the banks of the Charles River was like splashing water with a bucket, and everything on my body was drenched with sweat.My skin was burning with pain from the sun.The mind becomes hazy, unable to fully consider any one thing.But when you insist on finishing the run recklessly, you feel as if everything has been squeezed out from the deepest part of your body, and a sense of refreshment similar to giving up on yourself arises spontaneously.

Why at some point did I have to run "seriously"?Several reasons can be cited.First of all, life has gradually become busy, and I can no longer freely spare time in daily life.It's not that when you are young, you have as much time as you want, but at least there are not so many trivial things.For some reason, the trivia thing seems to increase with age.Furthermore, I am afraid that my mind has shifted from the marathon to the triathlon.As we all know, triathlons include swimming and cycling in addition to running.I was originally a long-distance runner and I was not afraid of running, but if I want to master the skills of the other two competitions, I must go through corresponding training.I started with the basics, corrected my swimming form, learned how to ride a bike, and rebuilt my muscles.This is time-consuming homework, so cut down on running time.

However, I have become less enthusiastic about running. The biggest reason is probably that I have been a little tired of "running" since a certain point.I started running in the autumn of 1982. I have been running for nearly 23 years, jogging almost every day, and running a full marathon at least once a year. Participated in countless long and short distance races all over the country.Running long distances is originally in line with my personality. As long as I run, I feel happy.Running, among the many habits I have developed in my life so far, is probably the most beneficial one, and it is of great significance.I feel like my body and mind have been strengthened in a generally good direction from running non-stop for over twenty years.

I can't say I'm a team player, for better or for worse, that's what I was born with.Participating in games like football or baseball—which was almost nonexistent outside of childhood—has always been vaguely unpleasant.This may have something to do with my lack of brothers and sisters. It is always difficult to devote myself to events with others.But I'm not very good at one-on-one games like tennis.Squash is my favorite sport, but when it comes to playing a game, no matter whether I win or lose, I always find it difficult to take it easy.Fighting skills are not my strong point either.

Admittedly, I am not without a competitive heart.But for some reason, when I was young, I didn't care much about winning or losing in a showdown with other people.This character is also largely unchanged in adulthood.No matter what, whether you win or lose to others, you don't care too much about it, but you care more about whether you can meet the standards you set for yourself.In this sense, long-distance running is a sport that is completely in line with my mentality. As anyone who has run a full marathon twice knows, beating or losing to a particular person in a race doesn't really matter to the runner.If you become a favorite to win the championship, surpassing your immediate competitors becomes an important issue; however, for ordinary citizen participants, personal victory or defeat is not a major topic.Maybe there is someone who is motivated by the "I don't want to lose to that kid" type of person, which is probably enough motivation to practice.However, if that competitor is unable to participate in the race for some reason, this person's motivation to participate will inevitably disappear or be halved, so he will not be able to persevere as a runner for a long time. Among ordinary runners, many people set personal goals in advance-this time I will run the distance within a certain amount of time-and then challenge the race.If you can run the full distance within this time, you will be considered as "achieve a certain goal";Even if you fail to complete the race within the expected time, as long as you have the satisfaction of having done your best, or have laid some foundations for the next race, or have something like a major discovery, you are probably done.In other words, being able to feel pride or something like pride at the end of the race is probably the most important thing for a long-distance runner. The same statement applies to writing.The profession of a novelist, at least for me, is one of success or failure.Book sales, awards, and reviews may be signs of success, but they cannot be said to be essential issues.Whether the written text has reached the benchmark set by oneself is the most important thing; this is the only place where sophistry cannot be tolerated.Others may be able to prevaricate in any way, but one's own heart cannot be fooled.In this sense, writing a novel is like running a full marathon. For creators, their motives exist quietly and truly within themselves, and they should not seek forms and standards from the outside. Running, for me, is not only a beneficial physical exercise, but also a valid metaphor.While running every day, or accumulating competition experience, I raise the bar of the goal little by little, and improve myself by surpassing this height.At least be determined to improve yourself and work hard for it every day.I'm certainly not a great runner, but I'm at a very average—or rather mediocre—level.Yet the question is not important at all.It's more important that I'm better than I was yesterday, even by a little bit.In long-distance running, if there is an opponent that must be overcome, it is the past self. However, after the age of forty-five or sixteen, this self-assessment system has changed little by little. To put it simply: the competition results can no longer be improved.Considering the age, this is also impossible.No matter who you are, you will usher in the peak of physical fitness at some point in your life.Naturally, there are individual differences, but in general, swimmers are between twenty and twenty-five years old, boxers are between twenty-five and thirty, and baseball players are around thirty-five. There is no way to avoid the "watershed" that is invisible to the naked eye.I asked an ophthalmologist: "Is there anyone in the world who doesn't suffer from presbyopia?" It varies from person to person. For example, Dostoevsky wrote "Demons" and "The Brothers Karamazov" two of the most important novels in the last few years of his sixty-year life.Dominique Scarlatti created 555 harpsichord sonatas in his lifetime, most of which were written between the ages of fifty-seven and sixty-two. In my case, the pinnacle of being a runner came in the second half of my forties.So far, I have run the whole marathon on the basis of three and a half hours, and the rhythm is exactly five minutes for one kilometer and eight minutes for one mile.Sometimes it takes three and a half hours to break through, and sometimes it doesn't break through—most of the time it doesn't break through, but you can always finish the distance with similar results.Even if I feel that I did not run well this time, I was able to run for more than three hours and forty minutes.Even if there is almost no practice, even if the body is not in good condition, it is rare for the time to exceed four hours.Such a period lasted for a period of time like a stable plateau.However, the good times didn't last long, and the momentum gradually became wrong.Although I practiced the same as before, it gradually became quite difficult to finish the course in more than three hours and forty minutes. The rhythm became five and a half minutes for one kilometer, and finally barely approached the boundary of four hours to complete the course.It was a modest shock.What happened? I don't want to admit it's age.Because in daily life, I have never experienced the feeling that my body is gradually weakening.However, no matter how you deny it and ignore it, the numbers are retreating step by step. The unsatisfactory results may also be a reason. I began to consider running a longer distance than the full marathon, and began to become interested in sports such as triathlons and squash.If you just run blindly, your body may become unbalanced. Wouldn’t it be better to combine it with other sports to shape a well-rounded body? I thought so. I followed my personal trainer and relearned swimming strokes from the basics, and I was able to swim faster than before with ease.Muscles have also actively accepted the new environment, and the body shape has also undergone obvious changes.However, the results of the marathon are like the ebbing tide, slowly but actually continuing to retreat.Running is no longer the endless pleasure it once was.Between me and running, such a slow period of burnout came to visit.During this period, there was the disappointment that the efforts made were not rewarded, and there was the bewilderment that the door that was supposed to be open was closed without knowing when.I call these "runner's blues".What kind of blues it is will be explained in detail later. However, after ten years, when I returned to the small city of Cambridge (the last time I lived here was from 1993 to 1995, when President Bill Clinton was in office), I saw the Charles River again. , A thought popped up in my heart: "I really want to run!" Rivers, unless there have been great changes, generally look the same, and the Charles River in particular is the same as before.As the years passed, the faces of the students changed alternately, and I grew ten years older, just as the saying goes: the past is like smoke.Despite this, the river seems to have not changed at all, and still retains its former appearance.The torrential water flows silently towards Boston Bay. It infiltrates the river bank, luxuriates in green summer grass, breeds water birds, passes under the ancient stone bridge, reflects the blue sky and white clouds in summer, and floats icicles in winter. Restless, endless, as if passed all kinds of tests, unshakable ideas, just flow silently to the sea. After sorting out the luggage I brought from Japan and completing all kinds of administrative procedures, once I finished setting up the living area here, I started running enthusiastically again.Breathing the compact and tough air in the morning with an open mind, stepping on the ground that I am used to running, the joy of running revived again.The sound of footsteps, breathing and the beating of the heart are intertwined to create a unique symphonic rhythm.The Charles River is a mecca for rowing races, and there are always people rowing on the river.I ran as if I was racing with them.Of course, it is generally the rower who is faster.However, sometimes there will be a fierce competition between me and the one-person rowing boat that rowed leisurely upstream. Probably not unrelated to the fact that this place is the host of the Boston Marathon, Cambridge is a place with many runners.Along the banks of the Charles River, there are stretches of roads dedicated to fitness running. As long as you are willing, you can run endlessly for hours.It's just that it also doubles as a bike lane, so you'll have to keep an eye out for bikes speeding from behind you.There are cracks in the road from time to time, and you have to be careful not to trip over your feet.Hitting a long line of red lights and having to wait is also a bummer.Other than that, though, it's an enjoyable jogging route. When I run, I mostly listen to rock and occasionally jazz.However, considering that it matches the rhythm of running, I think rock is the most satisfying as running music, such as Red Hot Chili Peppers, Street Fighter, Baker Band, or old music such as Credence Clearwater Revival Choir and The Beatles.The simpler the rhythm, the better.Nowadays, many runners run while listening to their iPod, but I still like the MD I am used to.Compared with the iPod, the MD is slightly larger, and the amount of information is far less, but it is enough for me.Right now, I don't want to mix music and computers any more than I want to mix friendship, work, and sex. As mentioned, I ran 310 kilometers in July.Two days of rain, two days of travelling, no runs, and days of exhausting heat.Considering this, being able to run 310 kilometers is not a bad result, not bad at all.If it is said that running 260 kilometers a month is considered "serious running", 310 kilometers may be considered "solid running".As the distance increased, the weight actually decreased.I lost seven pounds in two and a half months, and the slight growth around my abdomen disappeared.Seven pounds is equivalent to more than three kilograms.Please imagine the scene of going to the butcher shop to buy three kilograms of meat and walking home with it in your hands, and you can probably truly feel the weight.The thought of living with such a weight on my body for a time is quite complicated.Draft beer (Sam Adams beer) and donuts are a must in Boston, but the usual dogged exercise plays a role. It is absurd for a man of my age to write about such things.But in order to clarify the facts, I have to say something first: Speaking of which, I am the kind of person who likes to be alone. To be more precise, I am the kind of person who does not suffer from being alone.Whether I don’t talk to anyone for an hour or two every day, whether I run silently by myself, or sit at my desk for four or five hours, and write articles silently, I don’t find it difficult or boring.This tendency has been consistent since my youth, and has always existed in me.I'd much rather read a book in silence, or listen to music with total concentration, than do something with someone.I can think of many, many things that only need to be done by one person. Nevertheless, since getting married at a young age (I was twenty-two when I was married), I have grown used to living with people.After graduating from college, I ran a restaurant and realized the importance of getting along with others.It is a matter of course that people cannot survive alone, but I have learned it down-to-earth.I also gradually grasped something like sociality, albeit out of shape.Looking back, during the ten years from the age of 20 to my 30s, my outlook on the world has undergone considerable changes, and I have also made some progress in being a human being.From bumping into walls everywhere, I learned the knack of survival.Without this ten years of life experience, which can be considered difficult, I am afraid I would not be able to write any novels, and even if I wanted to, I would not be able to write them.But then again, human nature does not change in extremes.The desire to be alone is always in my heart.So running for an hour a day to ensure only my own silent time has become a homework of great significance to my mental health.At least when running, you don't need to talk to anyone, don't have to listen to anyone, just look at the surrounding scenery and gaze at yourself.This is a precious moment that nothing can replace, Every time someone asks me: What do you think about when you run? Most of the people who ask this question have no long-term running experience.When I encountered such a question, I fell into deep thinking: What did I think about when I was running? To be honest, I can’t remember what I thought about when I was running. On a cold day, I may think about cold; on a hot day, heat; when sad, sad; when happy, happy.As I wrote before, there will be no reason to fantasize about the past.Sometimes, just occasionally, little ideas about novels come to mind.Even so, I almost never think about serious things. I run, just run.The principle is to run in the blank.Maybe run to get blank.Even in this void, there are moments of thought creeping in.This is a matter of course, there can be no real void in the human mind.The human spirit is not strong enough to sit in a vacuum, and if it is, it is not consistent.Having said that, these thoughts, or ideas, that crept into my mind as I ran were nothing more than vacancies.They are not content, but thoughts that gradually rise and rise with the blank as the base axis. The thoughts that come to mind while running are like clouds in the sky, they come in different shapes and sizes.They float in and out.But the sky is still the sky, unchanged.A cloud is just passing by, it comes and goes across the sky.Only the sky remains.The so-called sky. , is something that is both present and absent, both substance and non-substance.For the vast container-like state of existence of the sky, we can only accept it as it is and accept it in its entirety. Over half a century old, I am already in the second half of my life.The 21st century and the like have really come, and I'm literally in my fifties, something I couldn't have imagined when I was young.Theoretically speaking, one day the twenty-first century will come, no accidents, then I will be in the fifties of my life, this is self-evident.However, when I was young, trying to picture myself in my fifties was as difficult as "imagining the world after death".Mick Jagger once said boldly when he was young: "If I am still singing "Satisfaction" at the age of forty-five, I might as well be dead." However, now he is over sixty and continues to sing "satisfy".Some people laughed at him for it.But I can't laugh.A young Mick Jagger couldn't imagine himself at forty-five.Even when I was young, I couldn't imagine such a thing.Can I laugh at Mick Jagger? No.I don't happen to be a famous young rocker, and no one remembers or quotes such stupid things as I said at the time.Isn't that all? Now, I am in that "unimaginable" world.When I think about it this way, I feel a little funny.Am I happy or unlucky here? Even I can't figure it out.However, this appears to be a major issue without fanfare.For me—and probably for others—this was the first experience of growing older.It is also the first time I experience the emotions I experience here.If you have experienced it before, even just once, you can understand various things more or less clearly.But for the first time, it is not so simple.I can only leave the subtle judgments for a later date, first accept the things in front of me as they are, and live with them for the time being, just like the attitude towards the sky, clouds and rivers.It also seemed to me that there was undoubtedly something comical about these things, and that, depending on the mood, they might not be worthless. As I said before, no matter in daily life or in the field of work, competing with others is not the way of life I pursue.It sounds like you're talking nonsense, but it's just because there are all kinds of people that this world is the world.Others have their own values ​​and ways of living that match them, and I also have my own values ​​and ways of living that match them.Such differences have produced subtle differences, and the combination of several differences may develop into a major misunderstanding, causing people to be criticized for no reason.Being misunderstood and criticized is by no means a pleasant event, and it may also cause deep trauma to the soul.It is also a painful experience.However, as we grow older, we gradually realize that such pain and trauma are actually necessary for life.Come to think of it, it is precisely because of being somewhat different from others that a person can establish himself as an independent existence.As far as I am concerned, it is being able to persist in writing novels.Only by being able to see different scenery from others, feel different things from others, and choose sentences different from others in the same scenery can we continue to write our own stories.There is even a rare situation: a very small number of people hold it in their hands and read it.I am me and no one else, and this is an important asset to me.The injury to the soul is the price that man has to pay to the world for this self-reliance. I basically think in this way, and live my life according to this thinking.As a result, I may have actively pursued solitude to some extent.For people who work in my profession, although there are differences in degrees, this is the only way that cannot be avoided.This feeling of isolation, like acid overflowing from a bottle from time to time, will unknowingly corrode and dissolve people's hearts.This is a sharp double-edged sword that protects people's hearts, but also slightly but continuously damages the inner wall of the soul.We probably have some experience of this danger, and we are well aware of it.Only then did I have to constantly and physically move my body, sometimes to exhaustion, to get rid of the sense of isolation my body was loaded with.It is said that it is intentional, rather it is acted by intuition. Let me be a little more specific. When someone blames me for no reason (at least it seems to me), or when I feel that someone's acceptance is not necessarily the case, I always run a little further than usual.Running a longer distance than usual, let the body consume more, so as to re-recognize that we are weak human beings with limited abilities-from the deepest, physical understanding.Moreover, running a longer distance than usual is strengthening one's body, even a little bit.If you are angry, vent that anger on yourself.If you feel annoyed, use that annoyance to train yourself.That's how I think.Things that can be swallowed silently are swallowed into the body without leaving anything. In the container of the novel, try to change its posture and shape, and release it as a part of the story.I try to do that.I do not think that such a character is pleasing, and I am afraid that it is appreciated by very few and seldom by many.For such a lack of coordination, who would like to hide in the closet alone when encountering problems, who would have good intentions? Is it really possible for a professional novelist to like people? I don't know .Maybe somewhere in the world, but I'm afraid it's hard to generalize.At least it is hard for me to imagine myself as a novelist writing novels for years and years and being privately loved at the same time.It seems more natural to be disgusted, hated, and contemptuous.I didn't intend to say: In this case, I feel relieved.Even I have no inclination to appreciate the disgust of others.That's another story, let's talk about running. Either way, I've won back "Running Life" again.I started running pretty "seriously" and am running pretty "solid" today.What this means to me in my sixties, I don't know much.It must have some meaning, maybe it's not a big deal, not a big deal.But for now, just keep your head down and run.Meaning, it's not too late to rethink it later.Rethinking later is one of my specialties, one that has only gotten better with age.Put on your jogging shoes, apply sunscreen on your face and neck, adjust your watch, get to the side of the road, and start running.Bear the oncoming trade wind on your cheeks, look up at the egrets flying across the sky with their legs together, and listen to the evocative songs of the band "Full Spoonful of Love". The record of the game has not improved, but there is nothing to do.While I was running, I suddenly had thoughts.I have reached a certain age, and time will take its share, and I have no one to blame.This is the rule of the game, just like the river flows continuously towards the sea.We can only accept this image of ourselves as a part of our natural situation.It may not be pleasant, and what is found may not be something to be ecstatic about.However, isn't this something helpless? In my life so far, I have roughly—even if I can't say it is fully—enjoyed the fun of it. Not boasting (who can boast about such a thing): I'm not very smart.I'm the kind of person who can see things clearly through the flesh and blood, through the material that can be reached and touched.No matter what I do, I can only understand it if I transform it into a form visible to the naked eye.To say that I am an intellectual is better to say that I am a person of material structure.Admittedly, I have some understanding, maybe.If there is not even a trace of it, I am afraid I will never be able to write a novel.However, I am not the type who builds theories and logic in my head for a living, nor is I the type who uses speculation as fuel to move forward. Only by improving the depth of understanding can we barely "understand" the type.Needless to say, it is bound to take time and energy to draw conclusions step by step and step by step.If it takes too much time, by the time you finally understand it, it may be too late and time has passed.However, this is helpless.Because I am such a person.I want to think about the river, and I want to think about the clouds, but my heart is empty.I ran endlessly in the self-made small and exquisite space, in the nostalgic silence.This is quite a pleasant thing, how can I care what others say?