Run.Brownie.Run.

I wasn’t going to write. No, I wasn’t going to. I didn’t intend to, at least. Of course, until it hit me.

High-tech failed.

It is now night-5 of the power outage following Sandy’s onslaught that crippled much of New York and New Jersey. And the noble rationale of “well, its part of the process and were lucky to be alive” cliché has now turned into an ugly sense of annoyance.

High-tech failed. It failed big time. I know some heads claiming to be sensible will say otherwise but this is a fact that it is true to me at this time.

It has failed.

Why so? Put it in these contexts.

I live in a building, recognized with a restoration award, having an old, pre-war or so identity, transformed into one of Jersey City’s better alternatives in condominium living without the downtown Jersey City price. Some people I’ve known had professed coveting the place during prior open houses, before the 22-unit condominium was filled.

Why not? While we don’t have the amenities of a gym or indoor pool, the building has:

A virtual doorman– who needs an overly-paid man in suit to hail cabs for you when you have a virtual doorman? A nameless, faceless person to open the doors (which, by the way, uses a FOB, not a key— you know, the key that you can make duplicates with at LOWES) when you need them or one to receive your package from your UPS guy;

A robotic garage– who would think from outside that our minute door of a garage can actually hold about 30 cars? Yes, that’s the magic of our Park Plus system, which allows cars to be parked above or under another. Another reason why you don’t need a doorman;

A tankless water system– why do you think I can manage to shower for a minimum of 30 minutes at a time with full blast heat? Yes, our tankless water system does that for us, which allows water to be filtered hot into those heavenly spouts, something like the process of osmosis (only there’s no area of greater concentration).

Of course, these are just some of the good stuff.

But fast-forward to this day. Ack!!! Now I am an invalid amidst all the technology.

The door to the building had to be literally opened with a key. I didn’t even know I was in possession of that key in my key chain until this outage!

Today, I had to wait at the lobby for close to 2 hours because, yes, the virtual doorman could not work without electricity nor does the high tech door bell, therefore, there was no one to buzz in my dear UPS guy for a package I was eagerly awaiting.

And while I am thankful we didn’t lose water supply (I would’ve hanged myself) I had to shower with cold water. Need I say more?

And wait, the story gets better…

While the whole of the Tri-state is scrambling for gas, we didn’t really need gas because being married to a former military officer, we were prepared— from gas to canned goods to rechargeable charger. We  also filled our gas tanks prior!

But then, here is where the story sounds sweet. While the husband’s car had a tank, full of gas, he couldn’t use his car, at all!!! Why? Because it was trapped in the robotic garage, which wouldn’t budge because— there was no power!

So while I like to whine about having to walk 3 blocks to get my SUV out of the outdoor parking lot, paid for every month with 80-freaking bucks, I still consider myself lucky that my vehicle is in a quasi-medieval parking.

And yes, consider our family luckier! Most tenants here only have one car and most of them had their cars in our dear Park Plus system.

So what is the lesson here? What is my point?

Not much really. Except that high tech fails. It failed big time.

Before iPhone, iPad, Macbook, Facebook, and everything else technology that required electricity of some sort to work, people lived. People were happy, content.

Growing up, a joke I learned about the far-from-civilized mountain regions in the Philippines would go like this: when there was no electricity, people made babies. Lots and lots of babies. Babies who grew up to become farmers, who didn’t have electricity, who then made babies, who then grew up to become farmers, who didn’t have electricity, who then made babies…

A vicious cycle, to us city kids.

Yes, they were poor. Yes, they caused over-population. But they were content. With being farmers. With being without electricity. With only their transistor radios that played dramas (you know, like tv soap operas, only, they’re aired through AM radios) at night. With making babies after those radio dramas.

I don’t know what happened here. I don’t know what happened since then.

            This is, in fact, making me nervous.

            The fact that I am so adamant about running at this time gives me that feeling of impending doom. Okay, that’s going a little too far. Let me say, instead, feeling of, well, impending doom. Because where I am right now, is, probably, where I was before when I started to venture on different endeavors.

            Allow me to explain.

            I’ve only considered running last year, 2011. Of course, I had my bursts of motivations at that time. What they were, I don’t exactly remember. What lingers was the fact that I felt that was a good form of exercise back then to support a sudden weight loss, brought on by a couple of nights when all I could muster to “eat” after long hours in the emergency room was a glass of Lactaid. But then summer came, heat came, I went for a family vacation to Europe, had pasta and pizza and paella, came back to the states, and summer was over then everything went downhill.

            I found myself back in the same old predicament of weight gain when you’re in your upper 30s. Then came winter and I just gained more weight. No exercise, except for some intermittent attempts at such programs as the Brazilian Butt and Tony Horton, whose voice, by the way, I could not stand.

            Then came spring, I started some running again, including my first 5k race in June, faltered in the summer, but towards August (for fear that September was coming when I was to have my first Half-Marathon), I found myself propelled into running again.

            And, of course, came October when I picked up on my running. Fast-forward post-Runners World Half Marathon Festival and once again, I am circumvented into a cycle.

            That cycle that has fear looming in the background.

            Because I am at it again: I have gotten obsessed with running, especially post-RW Festival.

            Prior to the October run, I had bought myself some new running “essentials” that cost a little fortune. If that should not have been done, then shoot me. But that is exactly where I am good at— buying things allied to what I am obsessed with. And precisely, this is where my fears are coming from.

            Adding to my fear is my inability to balance and prioritize when I am obsessed. This moment is one of them. Me writing this blog. Because while I am supposed to be studying for a midterm grad school exam on Saturday, I am, instead, writing. Rather than read notes as soon as I got home from work today, I found myself skimming through RW magazine, looking for races I can join.

            For when was the last time that I did, in my crazy understanding, get obsessed with something?

             Hmmmm…. Oh yes, 2010 (supposedly) with skiing. Because I was or am great with things that obsess me, I bought the whole skiing shebang: Head skiis, boots, etc!

            Then 2011, with the driving range. Yes, you guess it. Some titanium drivers and hybrids.

            And like my many other “obsessions,” the skiing was eventually ditched in just as little as 3 ski trips. I figured out my fear of falling, especially since I started skiing just 2 weeks after a knee surgery to repair a meniscal tear.

            And then drivers? They are in the corner of my bedroom and I haven’t gone to the driving range since (although I would still want to give golf another shot).

            Long story short, this is where my fear stems from: that my running is just one of those “bursts,” fleeting, spur-of-the-moments. And I do not want that. I fear that.

            What I want is that even when winter comes, I would still be out there and run in my CWX (which, again, I bought as part of this new-found obsession). What I wish for is that I will not falter like I did falter with golf or skiing or Rosetta Stone.

            I would really like to be out there and run even when everyone else is heading for the slopes.

            I would really wish to see myself make use of the “investments” I made in buying “running essentials.”

            I am not a strong, fast runner. Yet, I managed to make progress as I raced against myself, when I PR’d in the past weekend’s half in Bethlehem. On hills versus my prior record on a flat course.

            That’s what I want to see. Myself out there. Running because I have loved running and not because it is a momentary obsession. Running because I want to challenge— and beat— my own personal record. Running because, really, I don’t have much life besides the ER and home. Running because I want to run. To free my mind. To think. To just run.

            If joining a race in December is what it takes to motivate me, then it will be.

            If buying a pair of Newtons is what it takes, then I will.

            I will do just that, until all the things that I bought for will no longer be in the guise of being “running essentials” but become smart investments.

            I will do exactly these things, until running becomes second nature.

             I will attempt to find whatever it is that will motivate me, until those days would come when I’d see myself put on some running clothes and not have to decide whether or not I should go out there and just do it.