I don’t like rules.
Having managed to keep going yourselves, I can imagine you that maybe don’t either. Honoring our shared distaste, I’ll refrain from writing you any more rules; under the sun, and the moon, and the hand of hegemonic state power, you have enough to be getting along with anyway. Instead, I offer you my own reflections on the meaning of keeping going.
- Earlier this week I was lucky enough to hear Chicanx performance artist, Xandra Ibarra (sometimes known as La Chica Boom) speak. Her work meditates on movement – in space, and time, and culture. She calls this theory of movement, ‘training for exhaustion,’ and hosts group runs under the same name. In doing so she comments on what seems to be the inherent condition of those who are different – monsters – in our time. The logic seems to go: “If I’m going to be exhausted, might as well be fit.” Hearing her speak, it was extraordinarily difficult to begin to think of movement, and of running in particular, as disentangled from progress, from moving forward in the existential sense. I say all this for a simple reason, which is to ask: where do you keep going to? and to remind you, that that answer may be nowhere (which may be everywhere at once).
- Please record your usage of resources, for me, you, and everybody else. Keeping going takes time and energy and I’d hate to see you fizzle out after having gone so far. And if your method includes fossil fuel, that’s worth noting too. How long do you want to be able to keep this up for?
- How can one tell when you’ve stopped or started, if the going is still being kept? What kinds of pauses are allowable before the mark a cessation entirely? Do you keep a regular pace? I ask these questions to clarify for the interested observers who may want to retrace your steps and to know better for how long the motion is being kept alive.