Shoes...check.
Heart rate monitor/Garmin...check.
Hat, gloves...check.
iPod...check.
Motivation...semi-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 anything...how 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
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