Saturday, January 7, 2012

Son of a #$%*&!


Heart rate monitor/Garmin...check.

Hat, gloves...check.



I had most everything I needed for a decent run this morning.  I wasn't going to kill myself.  I just wanted to do 3 miles and be home in a half an hour.  Seemed doable.  Until, my feet hit the pavement and a mile into it, I got really angry.

Why in the hell is this so hard for me?  I have a goal in mind with a plan.  I have a ton of family/friend support.  The weather is breathtaking for a January morning.  I live near lots of great places to gander at while running.  What is wrong with me?

Half-way into my moping, I realized that for the most part, my life is a series of hurry up and waits.  No lie.  Parenting little ones is an extreme lesson in letting go otherwise, you will literally go stir-crazy if you think that anything is on your time table.  So, when it comes to running, I don't know what to do with myself.  Do I start slow?  Do I get cooking out of the gate?  Do I pace myself or go balls to the wall until I pass out?  And more than do I release and try to just endure?  Because running, at least long distances, is not a hurry up and wait game.  It's a fluid, flowing, get comfy, because we're gonna be here a while deal.

I know exactly why I was intended to run this race.  I've got lots to learn about myself, much of which I have yet to comprehend.  I'm grateful for the pain even though it sucks in the interim.

"I assess the power of a will by how much resistance, pain, torture it endures and knows how to turn to its advantage. " Friedrich Nietzsche

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.