I know you're probably sick of hearing about running, but I just ran 6 miles (for the first time ever!) and it's the most impressive thing I've accomplished today, so I have no choice but to tell you about it. Although I don't exactly recommend it, it wasn't nearly as miserable as it could have been. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being "merely exhausted" and 10 being "this is a fate worse than death," I finished up at about a 6.5, which is roughly equivalent to "I'd like to sit down now and never stand up again, please."
I generally do my longer runs on this really nice flat, paved trail not too far away. The trail is about 6 miles long (supposedly, I haven't covered it all yet) and it's marked every quarter-mile so you get the satisfaction of seeing your distance tick by as you go. The best part about the trail, in my opinion, is that when I reach the marker for one quarter-mile from the finish line, I can actually SEE the next marker, the one where I get to stop and walk and never run again, amen. I cannot overemphasize the rush I get from being able to see the finish while I run that last miserable quarter-mile. It's like the difference between lifting a car because a guy in a bar dared you to, and lifting a car because your baby IS TRAPPED UNDER THE REAR WHEEL OMG SAVE HIM NOW!
Even though I didn't drop dead this time, I really needed that extra push today, because things started to get kind of hazy during the last mile and a half. I could tell I was really getting tired when I realized that in addition to being sore and out of breath, even my thoughts were incoherent. It was like the kind of stuff you think about right before you fall asleep, like you're riding a camel backward through the desert while reading an old copy of Esquire when suddenly a flamingo flags you down and asks for a ride and zzzzzz..... Except I didn't have the pleasure of falling asleep, I just waited to see whether my feet would keep moving even if I happened to completely lose touch with reality. The good news is that life started making sense again when I finally stopped.
I think the best thing I've gotten from this whole experience so far is a much broader idea of what I can withstand. I stopped and walked a couple times today, for 3 or 4 minutes at a time, and if I had given myself the choice I probably would have walked the last mile or two. But every time I forced my feet to start again, and found that somehow I had the ability to keep going for a little while longer. When I put it that way, it makes it sound kind of like I have some kind of amazing willpower, but I really don't. Anyone who's ever seen my behavior in the presence of Oreos knows this.
In reality, I think it's just one example of what any person can do, and it applies to much more than running. In almost any situation where we think we're at our limit, we can make the decision to bear it for one more step, one more moment, one more breath. And if we make it through that one, we can do it again.
There's this thing that happens occasionally where I think I'm as tired as I can possibly be but I keep running anyway, and then suddenly my whole body starts to tingle. The feeling itself isn't really pleasant or unpleasant, and the first time it happened I was vaguely unsettled, waiting to see if a light were about to appear to guide me home. I have no idea what the scientific explanation for it is; in all likelihood it's the feeling of three years being taken off the end of my life. Nevertheless, I like to think of it as my brain just throwing up its hands and resolving to just stop registering pain altogether, since I seem to be hellbent on ignoring it anyway. I'm beginning to believe that you can short-circuit your brain like that in any situation that seems unbearable. Maybe by choosing to accept it and keep going anyway, you adapt, and suddenly your mind justs stop protesting.
So. In your face, brain! Now who's in charge??
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