I slept too late this morning. I didn't check the weather before I went to bed. Had I checked the weather, I would have known I needed to get out there early for my three mile run. As it was, I left at 10:40. It was 75 degrees out.
If you've been following my running journey at all, you know I gripe and moan rather vehemently about running in the heat. I simply cannot tolerate it. I am one of those odd ducks for whom summer is their least favorite season. Yes, I said it. I don't like summer. The reason? It's hot! I really don't like to be hot. This fact has me a little concerned as I train for a half marathon in September. What's between now and September? SUMMER! This will be an interesting journey. :)
Here's how today's run began:
9:30am - I better get going. It's only going to get hotter.
9:45am - I better get going. It's only going to get hotter.
10:00am - I better get going. It's only going to get hotter.
10:10am - Out the door! iPod Shuffle cued. PLAY!
<<<silence from iPod>>>
10:11am - back inside. The iPod worked two days ago while I sat at my desk! C'mon!
10:15am - updating iPhone with Running Playlist. I don't really want to run with my iPhone, but even more, I don't want to run without music. Did I mention it was hot?
10:25am - out the door again.
10:35am - at starting line. The telephone pole pictured here is always my starting line. Today, I stood at this post, ostensibly stretching. After several minutes of being bent over folded in half, I realized was actually examining my knees for razor misses. I laughed. Procrastination at its finest. I am standing AT my starting line, wandering in little circles, totally dissociated from what is about to happen. And the mental game begins...
10:40am - Finally, I start running.
0:01:39 (One minute, 39 seconds): My thighs burn. Oh wait. Runners don't call them thighs. Quads. My quads are burning. I want to stop.
0:02:30: Thighs, uh, quads don't hurt anymore. I knew that would happen. It's a weird phenomenon about running. During the first few steps, I feel like a uncoordinated fool, with every joint and muscle screaming, "WHAT!? What the hell do you think you're doing?!?!" But somewhere between two minutes thirty seconds and the end of the run, they shut up.
0:06:47: Thigh. I start thinking about the word. Thigh. Say it. I mean, it is a ridiculous word. It makes me laugh. I am almost seven minutes in and thinking about how thigh is one of those words that, if said loudly in public, will turn heads. Same is true for the word penis.
0:09:54: Hmm. Almost ten minutes in, and dare I say, I feel good. Is it possible to actually feel good on a run? I feel solid, strong, healthy. I can breathe. Wow. This is cool. (Then there is the fact that to this point the course has been mostly downhill or flat. Shhhhh. Don't tell).
The course I mapped took me along the beautiful path that runs along UNCA (pic on left). It truly is lovely. I peeked into the trees and was drawn in by the little creek that runs
along this path. I saw a rock (pic on right), and I wanted to take off my shoes and sit on that rock with my feet in the water. It was so peaceful, that I decided to capture the moment. I unexpectedly had my iPhone with me, so I stopped to snap a photo. There was a voice in my taunting, "Uh, Dani? Your time? You are losing time here!" I hit "stop" on my watch to stop the time and silence the voice. I snapped the photo, with a thought that I would stop here on the way back and put my feet in.
I started my watch and ran on. I ran about ten steps and was struck by the sunlight on this plant (see pic right). I wanted to take a picture, but could I really stop again? I was out for a run, not a nature walk! I kept running for several yards. Suddenly, I stopped. Why am I doing this?
Remember: Destination: Life! The finish line of this 3.1 mile course was the destination. Seeing a beautiful laurel plant and being able to take a picture of it for my husband (it's his favorite) is a part of the journey. Remembering what is truly important, I turned around, stopped my watch, and pulled out my camera.
0:19:57: Dying. Hot. So hot. Can't think. Have I mentioned my thoughts on heat? I hate this. I hate my life. This is stupid. Sweat pouring. Running sucks. Why do I do this? What am I thinking? Was it just ten minutes ago that I said I felt solid, strong and healthy? Who was that crazy person? I have over a mile left. No. Way. Can't. Make. It. Stream calling to me, "STOP. Rest. Put feet in me. NOW!"
So here's what I want to know. How is it possible to go from feeling great while running to feeling like death while running? How does something go from one extreme to another so quickly? I imagine that the ups and downs of a single run can be a metaphor for some periods of life. I went from a difficult start to feeling great to a painful period. I had to continue to press through - through the pain, through the negative thoughts, through the anger.
Isn't life like that? Difficult times. Great times. Painful times where you can't see how you will continue to go on. I wonder, do we stop to care for ourselves in those moments? Do we allowing ourselves time to heal? Or do we just press on, running through life as if nothing is wrong. Running away from the pain and sorrow that is so much a part of the human experience. Sometimes during the running, life calls you to rest. Will we listen to that call and be with our pain so that it may heal?
I stopped to rest before running that last mile. I was bent over, wheezing, in pain. And I stopped. I allowed time to heal and recover. I didn't worry about time. I didn't worry about finishing. I didn't worry about anything but healing my body in that moment. Life was asking me to rest. I rested.
This may only be a record of a silly run, but I hope I will remember the metaphor the next time life leaves me feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or in pain. Take time to recover.
I did finish the course. 0:32:34. And when I walked by that stream, I listened to its call.
