Every morning I fight with myself, wrestle with my inertia, shun all the plausible logic that my slothful brain hurls at me, simply in an effort to get out of bed. Its still dark outside, the grandparents tea isn’t ready for me to steal a sip from yet, and I swear every reason I can think of is right there for me NOT to go for that run. Experience has taught me to put on my shoes despite everything. Everyone in the house has express instructions to push me out of the house and close the door behind me. Everyday I walk to the starting point feeling apprehensive, wondering if I’ll disappoint myself today. I find myself trying to gauge what my knees are feeling like, gingerly feeling for rubbery legs, mentally preparing myself for possibly just an okay-but-not-outstanding-run, scared that it will disappoint me into not repeating the routine tomorrow.
I can tell you, at the end of NO run have i ever regretted those lost minutes of sleep, that pre-wakefulness scuffle with myself.
With every meter that I run, things begin to fall into perspective, the sweat seems to wash out some cobwebs, and an internal dialogue begins to give me a sense of control over battles that I can pick.
Outside of my mind, I am gasping for breath, grimacing, trying to correct my posture, breathe from my diaphragm, struggling to make the next step fall well. Inside, the jigsaw begins to put itself in order.
Coach says when I run faster, push myself towards my potential, out of my comfort pace, the flaws in my form fall away. That the downward slope, the easier run is the time to introspect, straighten out your form, the upward slope is what tests it.
To me, that sounds astoundingly like an analogy to things in general.
I’m no ace athlete training for the next big marathon. I just run, because at age five my father began dragging me out with him on his circuit, ignoring my cranky complaints about aching ears, teaching me to breathe in rhythm BEFORE i fell short of breath. At some point I forgot to complain and became addicted to the endorphin release.
I’m still struggling to get out of bed every morning. Sometimes, I manage to convince myself that my excuse for not planting my feet on the road was valid. But every time I tell myself, it wont be valid tomorrow.
When everything else is difficult, the easiest thing to do is tighten your laces and be grateful that you can run. That you remember how to push yourself.
Keep running.
(next time will be less heavy on the sentiments, I promise!)
The Nomad in Spirit 