Here we go again…

Like most, I have several passions. Some of these are just pastimes and don´t take up any space in my mind (not even while I´m doing them) - those recomforting, time-devouring childhood-passions, like hanging out in front of the tv all sunday long, or playing really old computer games with a stunningly bad design (preferably all night long – its so nice to hear the first birds chirp to the sound of exploding planets). I don´t plan to indulge in these passions – they happen to me from time to time (rarely, unfortunately).

Then there are the other ones – the regulars. The ones accompaned by this feeling of urge, hovering on compulsion. The ones that make me put up ridiculous schedules to match with them. The ones that give me that tinge of panic when I realize that I have to do without them, and make me think frantically about how I can do them anyway.
I don´t know if you, thesupposedreaders, know these feelings. If you don´t, just think Rain Man (light version).

These passions normally don´t last forever (like the relaxed childhood-ones). They normally have different half-life-periods: Days (e.g. chocolate), weeks (e.g. music albums), months (e.g. sports).
And they sometimes leed to some slight annoyances or inconveniences in my life (3 pounds more on the scale, teasing friends and uncomprehending and therefore annoyed family members), but they always give me more pleasure while doing them than trouble afterwards (maybe apart from the chocolate, though).

This week, for the first time in my life, it didn´t go that well. Because when following my current passion (one-hour-running with a meticulously elaborated music-playlist) against some schedule oddities, I found myself in an unpleasant situation. Meaning: In an unknown place (actually: an unknown county), at a lake, in the dark, with absoultely no idea in which direction I had to go, and just enough light to make out the disturbingly moving shadows in front of me. That, dear children, happens when you think you can find your way around with just casting a glance at an online-running route. The feel of fear slowly creeping up inside me (by-the-way evoking reassuring questions like: what if I don´t find the way? what if i fall and break my ankle and nobody comes by? what if just the wrong person comes by??!?), I wasn´t really able to contemplate the beauty of the silvery lake, the park around it, let alone enjoy the pleasure of feeling the strength in my legs and the warm sweat on my back (maybe because it was cold).
I had completely lost my way, I had no cell phone, and until I most luckily found a way with some street lamps and bumped into another runner who showed me where I had to go, I was living through some very unpleasant moments.

I don´t think that my livelong passion-habit will change because of that experience, but I sure got a new view on both web 2.0 and my own orientation abilities.