Thursday, June 30, 2011
Paolo Nutini Would Be Proud. I'm Not.
My parents have been telling me they are paying for quite a few lasts recently. They have paid for my last phone, my last laptop, my last dinner, my last beer, my last shirt, and finally they just paid for my last pair of running shoes. They are Aasics Gel Kayanos and at $140 a pair they are the best damn shoes and will be my shoes for quite some time. I decided to take them for a three mile test run today.
I'm going to wind the clock back to last weekend. Last weekend I went back to Providence to surprise my friends that are currently on the club, BOP. I wen there with other graduates because it's a tradition to do so every summer. It was good to see my fellow graduating friends and to answer any reservations, yes i did get fucking cocked out of my mind. So much so that there are two separate nights of pictures of me passed out on two separate couches. Needless to say, I am much too old to party, even after only two months from graduating. But, as fun as it may have been, this weekend was much more difficult then I expected it to be.
I feel like over the past few months before I graduated, I was lied to. I was told that I would still be a part of the BOP family and that I would never be forgotten about and this calmed me. I came into the basement where they were partying this year and they were all really excited to see me, but I could just tell I didn't belong. I could tell that I was no longer part of the 50 member family that they used to be. I was able to know for a fact that they were moving on and I was no longer a part of it. It's something I should have realized a long while before that, but I guess you never realize something until you truly live in it.
With that in mind, I didn't run this week. I was depressed I felt like shit. I felt pathetic and unwanted, I am pathetic and unwanted. But after the new shoes I decided to give it another go.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My Inner Child
I think that we all have our own inner child. I like to hope we do. It is what maintains our innocence.
We want attention.
We want to be valued.
We get scared
We show off.
It isn't as obvious and we are ashamed of it, but we all have that inner child still brewing inside of us. It shows, but in the most unlikely of places....like on a run.
I decided to change things up today and run a different three mile loop. I was going to run to a one mile loop in the woods, that was one mile away. Putting all of that together means that I would be running three miles today. About a quarter of the mile from the run, off the main road I was running on, 3 kids were messing around on the razor scooters. They were shouting over to me and taunting me. I responded the best way to respond to those kinds of things. I completely ignored them. Because, hopefully, they would realize how stupid they were being. But an abused runner can only dream.
When I reached the trail, the back entrance that I used to always go into, was covered in weeds. It could still be vaguely seen, but it looked menacing. I didn't want to go in there, but there was no turning back now. I traipsed in and the trail was just as menacing as it used to be. I continued to run as fast as I could. The trees were close by and I just imagined some sort of monster snatching me up. The woods trail turned onto a wooden bridge with reeds twice my size surrounding it. I heard them rustling and then splashing. I was certain the monster was going to get me, and I sprinted the rest of the woods trail and jumped right back onto the road. I haven't been scared like that since I was six, to be honest I don't know what came over me.
The last mile went terrible, most likely from sprinting the last mile. While I was struggling, I remembered those three kids on the razor scooters, and I didn't want them to see me like this. I wanted them to see me in all of my glory. I wanted them to see that they were making fun of one bad ass mother fucker. So when I began to hear their voices but they weren't in sight, I started to pick up the pace. By the time they could see me, I ran by them in a brisk pace and I didn't even hear a word from them. I like to think it was because I silenced them, but really it was most likely because they didn't even see me much less care how I was doing on my run.
When I turned onto my street, I almost keeled over and barely finished. I let my inner child take over on the run for me today. It was foolish but good to know that I still have some innocence.
We want attention.
We want to be valued.
We get scared
We show off.
It isn't as obvious and we are ashamed of it, but we all have that inner child still brewing inside of us. It shows, but in the most unlikely of places....like on a run.
I decided to change things up today and run a different three mile loop. I was going to run to a one mile loop in the woods, that was one mile away. Putting all of that together means that I would be running three miles today. About a quarter of the mile from the run, off the main road I was running on, 3 kids were messing around on the razor scooters. They were shouting over to me and taunting me. I responded the best way to respond to those kinds of things. I completely ignored them. Because, hopefully, they would realize how stupid they were being. But an abused runner can only dream.
When I reached the trail, the back entrance that I used to always go into, was covered in weeds. It could still be vaguely seen, but it looked menacing. I didn't want to go in there, but there was no turning back now. I traipsed in and the trail was just as menacing as it used to be. I continued to run as fast as I could. The trees were close by and I just imagined some sort of monster snatching me up. The woods trail turned onto a wooden bridge with reeds twice my size surrounding it. I heard them rustling and then splashing. I was certain the monster was going to get me, and I sprinted the rest of the woods trail and jumped right back onto the road. I haven't been scared like that since I was six, to be honest I don't know what came over me.
The last mile went terrible, most likely from sprinting the last mile. While I was struggling, I remembered those three kids on the razor scooters, and I didn't want them to see me like this. I wanted them to see me in all of my glory. I wanted them to see that they were making fun of one bad ass mother fucker. So when I began to hear their voices but they weren't in sight, I started to pick up the pace. By the time they could see me, I ran by them in a brisk pace and I didn't even hear a word from them. I like to think it was because I silenced them, but really it was most likely because they didn't even see me much less care how I was doing on my run.
When I turned onto my street, I almost keeled over and barely finished. I let my inner child take over on the run for me today. It was foolish but good to know that I still have some innocence.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Guidance of an Inner Monologue
Regardless of the immersion in nature I had, I was pretty discouraged about how terrible I felt on Saturday morning. I decided to take an unscheduled day off on Sunday, just because I felt like my legs needed a race, even though my mileage and speed hasn't been what it used to, I think my legs and body have had difficulties with the adjustment of being a runner again.
Once again, today, I had nothing to do. Therefore I just slumped around the house and ate anything that didn't normally belong to a full meal. It was when I began to think about running where that pesky cough came back. After lying dormant for many weeks, the attack of the flem creature once again came to be a fear for my lungs. I thought about not running. I was pretty dead set on not running, but then I just said, "What the hell?". I laced up the shoes and took off just before dinner.
A runner normally keeps sane during racing or training but talking to themselves through an inner monologue. It's like an inner coach, which says encouragement or advice or just consoling words during a runner's most difficult hour of pain. A runner's inner monologue can be their best friend, or their worst enemy. For me, today, it was both.
I started out going over the strategy for the three miles in my head, "Take it slow for the first two, stay strong, and then have something left for that last mile, because that mile is the absolute worst." I ran the first one and a half miles just like my inner monologue told me to. It was when I turned around when things had a change of plans.
On the run back, I was telling myself the same thing, until some big ass runner with a goofy stride came out of a side street and ended up right next to me. To keep things from being awkward I went a little bit ahead of him. Then those damn awkward goofy footsteps were loud and approaching. I obviously didn't look back but hearing that ungraceful stomping was more than I can bare, so I began to pick up the pace more than before.
I didn't hear my monologue until I hit the Post Road, and this time it was mean to me. "What the hell are you showing off for some, goofy mother fucker? You're now going to be shit for that last mile." I then switched gears and tried to be more positive, because I knew that if I got into my head it would be the end of me. "Quit being so negative, you're going to be fine. You just need to take each hill as it comes."
...and that's just what happened. I was strong and I hit every hill with head on vengeance. There was a moment, where a blonde girl was a little while ahead of me. I decided to try to catch her, and I thought to myself, "Huh, this is the first girl I've actually chased in the context of running." And unlike other situations, I was successful this time. I passed her on the other side of the street, just to make sure that I didn't scare her, and if she had pepper spray, it would be bad day for both of us. I finished strong, feeling good and not wanting to die, which is always a good start.
Once again, today, I had nothing to do. Therefore I just slumped around the house and ate anything that didn't normally belong to a full meal. It was when I began to think about running where that pesky cough came back. After lying dormant for many weeks, the attack of the flem creature once again came to be a fear for my lungs. I thought about not running. I was pretty dead set on not running, but then I just said, "What the hell?". I laced up the shoes and took off just before dinner.
A runner normally keeps sane during racing or training but talking to themselves through an inner monologue. It's like an inner coach, which says encouragement or advice or just consoling words during a runner's most difficult hour of pain. A runner's inner monologue can be their best friend, or their worst enemy. For me, today, it was both.
I started out going over the strategy for the three miles in my head, "Take it slow for the first two, stay strong, and then have something left for that last mile, because that mile is the absolute worst." I ran the first one and a half miles just like my inner monologue told me to. It was when I turned around when things had a change of plans.
On the run back, I was telling myself the same thing, until some big ass runner with a goofy stride came out of a side street and ended up right next to me. To keep things from being awkward I went a little bit ahead of him. Then those damn awkward goofy footsteps were loud and approaching. I obviously didn't look back but hearing that ungraceful stomping was more than I can bare, so I began to pick up the pace more than before.
I didn't hear my monologue until I hit the Post Road, and this time it was mean to me. "What the hell are you showing off for some, goofy mother fucker? You're now going to be shit for that last mile." I then switched gears and tried to be more positive, because I knew that if I got into my head it would be the end of me. "Quit being so negative, you're going to be fine. You just need to take each hill as it comes."
...and that's just what happened. I was strong and I hit every hill with head on vengeance. There was a moment, where a blonde girl was a little while ahead of me. I decided to try to catch her, and I thought to myself, "Huh, this is the first girl I've actually chased in the context of running." And unlike other situations, I was successful this time. I passed her on the other side of the street, just to make sure that I didn't scare her, and if she had pepper spray, it would be bad day for both of us. I finished strong, feeling good and not wanting to die, which is always a good start.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Cure to a Scorpion Bowl
It was my best friend's birthday last night. While watching our japanese food being prepared in front of us, we decided to get a scorpion bowl. The name itself really accurately describes it. It's a bowl full of fucking poison. More specifically it's a giant glass of fruit juice and rum. Needless to say I woke with my primary concern on survival and not a run, but today was the valley day and the best thing for me would be a run. Therefore I slowly put my shoes on and hopped in the car with my folks.
The run obviously did not go well. My legs felt like rubber and I could barely pick them up. It was most likely the scorpion bowl from the night before, but I'm worried that running 6 times a week after never running for a few years has begun to take a toll, regardless of the low mileage. Regardless of the reason, I felt like absolute shit today.
I kept stopping and going and stopping and going. Eventually I looked to my right and saw the beautiful stream that runs along the railway bed. I saw the morning sun light fight it's way through the tree branches only to succeed in the occasional beam. I decided to walk down to the river. I stood at its bay and was entirely at peace. I looked again to my right and instead of going back on the railway bed, I ran along the river.
It's not about how fast you run, or many miles. What matters is how you feel?
The run obviously did not go well. My legs felt like rubber and I could barely pick them up. It was most likely the scorpion bowl from the night before, but I'm worried that running 6 times a week after never running for a few years has begun to take a toll, regardless of the low mileage. Regardless of the reason, I felt like absolute shit today.
I kept stopping and going and stopping and going. Eventually I looked to my right and saw the beautiful stream that runs along the railway bed. I saw the morning sun light fight it's way through the tree branches only to succeed in the occasional beam. I decided to walk down to the river. I stood at its bay and was entirely at peace. I looked again to my right and instead of going back on the railway bed, I ran along the river.
It's not about how fast you run, or many miles. What matters is how you feel?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Difficulties Physically and Mentally
I didn't teach today. There are half days that are now field days and most teachers will be in until the last day of school. So I suppose that yesterday will be my last day of school. Therefore I didn't wake up until 11, I didn't put pants on until 2 and am probably not going to shave until my next interview whenever the hell that is going to be.
I went for the run with the expecation that I would be running that three mile that I've been running for the past week. As I was sitting on my bed, tying my shoes, I was strategizing how I would tackle the route that has tackled me twice this week. I would have to start out taking the first half slow. I would be constant but I had to be careful about how I handled it, because the last half was full of rolling hills, most of which I would have to go up instead of going down.
I was barely a quarter of a mile into the run where everything hurt, nothing internally, but everything was sore. I had to just do a mile. I took that as a day off and today will be a day off as well.
It's fitting that I didn't do well today with my run, because I haven't exactly been feeling really great about myself. I think there are several parts of graduating that are difficult. For me it was the same stuff that I hated while in college that I still hate now. I hate going onto facebook and looking at the different girls that have brushed me off over the past few years and are now in their pictures, still beautiful, and flirting with all sorts of guys and having the time of their lives. People could argue that I never made a real go of it, or tried to with any of them, but of the small fraction I did and those failed results, I pretty much knew the shot that I had with anyone else that beautiful. Also, the guys they are with now didn't have to try, they didn't have to go for it, these beautiful girls just threw themselves at him and they are all happy.
I always tend to downplay my physical appearance and I never fail to stop doing such things because, let's be honest, I have a mirror, I have seen pictures of myself on facebook, and then I see these beautiful women and I already know that I have lose the battle of the looks. But then I look at the guys they are with, and I am just puzzled by it. I know that I am nothing great to look at. I mean, that's the main reason why I am running because as butt ugly as I am, I feel like at least I will have a pretty decent body, or a skinny runners one. But some of these guys aren't really much to look at. I mean granted some of them are knockouts that I definitely wouldn've been able to compete with, but some of them are pretty average. So what is bad about me, what do I do wrong? I don't know. I wouldn't want to be with me if I was them. I could say that all of these people are vapid, superficial, and emotionless, but they really aren't. And they are the ones who are going to go far in life and not me.
Another pain of graduating is realizing that you are no longer needed. I am...was a part of a club that is responsible for putting events on at our campus. It was also my second family of life and first family at college. They were the people that got me through rough time and also I had the best time of the world with them. They're my fifty best friends. But now that I graduated, I have to learn to move on from them. I don't want to be that guy who pesters the board and doesn't leave them alone. The person that doesn't let go of college and is pathetic. Regardless, I just feel like shit. I feel like I can't be that guy. I see the other people on the club still at Providence College and I see them talking to each other about events and parties. I see them wanting other people that left to come back and telling other people that they miss them. Their first party is in about a week and its a tradition for those that graduated to come back and see the rest of the people on the club. I was going to go, but I don't feel like they don't want to see me, so I don't see the point. I am probably just being dramatic, then again it feels real.
On saturday I will be back at the valley, with a new frame of mind and hopefully body.
I went for the run with the expecation that I would be running that three mile that I've been running for the past week. As I was sitting on my bed, tying my shoes, I was strategizing how I would tackle the route that has tackled me twice this week. I would have to start out taking the first half slow. I would be constant but I had to be careful about how I handled it, because the last half was full of rolling hills, most of which I would have to go up instead of going down.
I was barely a quarter of a mile into the run where everything hurt, nothing internally, but everything was sore. I had to just do a mile. I took that as a day off and today will be a day off as well.
It's fitting that I didn't do well today with my run, because I haven't exactly been feeling really great about myself. I think there are several parts of graduating that are difficult. For me it was the same stuff that I hated while in college that I still hate now. I hate going onto facebook and looking at the different girls that have brushed me off over the past few years and are now in their pictures, still beautiful, and flirting with all sorts of guys and having the time of their lives. People could argue that I never made a real go of it, or tried to with any of them, but of the small fraction I did and those failed results, I pretty much knew the shot that I had with anyone else that beautiful. Also, the guys they are with now didn't have to try, they didn't have to go for it, these beautiful girls just threw themselves at him and they are all happy.
I always tend to downplay my physical appearance and I never fail to stop doing such things because, let's be honest, I have a mirror, I have seen pictures of myself on facebook, and then I see these beautiful women and I already know that I have lose the battle of the looks. But then I look at the guys they are with, and I am just puzzled by it. I know that I am nothing great to look at. I mean, that's the main reason why I am running because as butt ugly as I am, I feel like at least I will have a pretty decent body, or a skinny runners one. But some of these guys aren't really much to look at. I mean granted some of them are knockouts that I definitely wouldn've been able to compete with, but some of them are pretty average. So what is bad about me, what do I do wrong? I don't know. I wouldn't want to be with me if I was them. I could say that all of these people are vapid, superficial, and emotionless, but they really aren't. And they are the ones who are going to go far in life and not me.
Another pain of graduating is realizing that you are no longer needed. I am...was a part of a club that is responsible for putting events on at our campus. It was also my second family of life and first family at college. They were the people that got me through rough time and also I had the best time of the world with them. They're my fifty best friends. But now that I graduated, I have to learn to move on from them. I don't want to be that guy who pesters the board and doesn't leave them alone. The person that doesn't let go of college and is pathetic. Regardless, I just feel like shit. I feel like I can't be that guy. I see the other people on the club still at Providence College and I see them talking to each other about events and parties. I see them wanting other people that left to come back and telling other people that they miss them. Their first party is in about a week and its a tradition for those that graduated to come back and see the rest of the people on the club. I was going to go, but I don't feel like they don't want to see me, so I don't see the point. I am probably just being dramatic, then again it feels real.
On saturday I will be back at the valley, with a new frame of mind and hopefully body.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Strength is Pain
I ran the same three today. I wasn't quite sure what to run today. I knew I wanted three but I could not figure out if I should give that loop another chance, or if I should just be safe and do the same back and forth run that I did the day before. I was still undecided when I began to run, because the two runs have the same start. The decision maker was not my own mind, however, but my own bladder.
I get this terrible bladder from my dad's side and it has already been a problem. When walking to a Red Sox game this summer I had to stop at almost any restaurant because I already had a belly full of beer. I have had to squeeze the living hell out of several dates' hands while the bus slowly drove to their formals because I already pre-gamed before that bus ride. I have spent most of the night in lines and bars and once got a bunch to the side of the head for pissing on some guys house. Granted all of these incidents had to do with alcohol but in general my bladder is far from any sort of reliable in really any situation, including the run today.
I thought about the three mile loop and I couldn't think of a bathroom on the 3 mile loop. Xpect Discounts probably doesn't have one in the back, car dealerships are way too clean for a dirty runner to set foot in, the ice cream place was outdoors, and the police station would probably let me use their's but I probably needed fingerprints before I used it. There was one bathroom I could think of on the route and it was the Gulf station across the post road which would mean I would have to the back and forth three miler.
When entering the Gulf Station bathroom where business savy Sicilian's or desperate horror movie teenagers would stash a body, I felt something euphoric. That bathroom was a mile away and I felt totally fine. I remember the beginning of the summer almost falling over after 1 mile and now I felt stronger then ever.
I continued to feel strong until I was crossing the post road for the second time and then for the second time in a row, I deteriorated. In the end of the run I could barely finish. I realized that this course, this back and forth course, is extremely difficult. There are rolling hills through the entire last half and they can almost break a runner, even someone skilled.
I get this terrible bladder from my dad's side and it has already been a problem. When walking to a Red Sox game this summer I had to stop at almost any restaurant because I already had a belly full of beer. I have had to squeeze the living hell out of several dates' hands while the bus slowly drove to their formals because I already pre-gamed before that bus ride. I have spent most of the night in lines and bars and once got a bunch to the side of the head for pissing on some guys house. Granted all of these incidents had to do with alcohol but in general my bladder is far from any sort of reliable in really any situation, including the run today.
I thought about the three mile loop and I couldn't think of a bathroom on the 3 mile loop. Xpect Discounts probably doesn't have one in the back, car dealerships are way too clean for a dirty runner to set foot in, the ice cream place was outdoors, and the police station would probably let me use their's but I probably needed fingerprints before I used it. There was one bathroom I could think of on the route and it was the Gulf station across the post road which would mean I would have to the back and forth three miler.
When entering the Gulf Station bathroom where business savy Sicilian's or desperate horror movie teenagers would stash a body, I felt something euphoric. That bathroom was a mile away and I felt totally fine. I remember the beginning of the summer almost falling over after 1 mile and now I felt stronger then ever.
I continued to feel strong until I was crossing the post road for the second time and then for the second time in a row, I deteriorated. In the end of the run I could barely finish. I realized that this course, this back and forth course, is extremely difficult. There are rolling hills through the entire last half and they can almost break a runner, even someone skilled.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Complexities of a Simple Mind
Yesterday just was not a good day. I am not sure what to blame it on, perhaps the lack of recent experience in running 3 miles or just a tough new loop that mapped out. Whatever it may be it didn't go well. It was later that night that my attitude didn't change when I saw on facebook that Ali is living with her current boyfriend. Is it stupid to be upset about that? Absolutely. Did that stop me from being so? Absolutely Not. My solution right now is to keep running and maybe eventually I will feel better about everything regarding that girl and that situation. I guess it did help me feel better about it today.
This morning didn't feel much better. The students I had in the social studies class I was subbing for, were very difficult to manage and they put in quite the terrible mood which caused me to take it out on students that (although still wrong) were probably not as deserving at the students that launched me into such a whirlwind. Regardless I was a very poor teacher today. How could I do something like put my emotions not only into my jobs but also effecting the students' experience in the classroom?
What kind of teacher is that? It's after days like today, where I don't think that I am going to be a good teacher at all. I will be nothing but a student's poor experience through their high school career. But my run today made me feel better about even that.
I was thinking about my run yesterday and my run on saturday and how they could have been so different....
1. One was after a monday and the other was at the beginning of a saturday
Well, there's nothing I can do about the day of the week.
2. One was on a scenic soft trail and the other on a hard street going past car dealerships and adult video stores.
I can't get in the habit of driving to the trail every day, and there aren't really any great trails around here that are longer than a mile loop.
3. One was a straight shot back and forth and the other was a loop.
Well, that was a difference, but normally a loop is much more easier to run then a straight shot back and forth. I mean always a loop was easier to run then a straight shot back and forth.
I always frowned upon running out a little and then back because I felt it to be a lack of creativity. Instead of thinking of a very interesting loop, you just run out a mile and then come back the same way, it's so boring and unoriginal. However, I was trying to get back out there and try to continue some great running and well I guess that doing what I seemed to do right at the valley was the best course of action at this point in the summer. Therefore I clocked a run that went a mile out toward the post road and then I would cross the post road and go another half mile, which ended right after I passed by my sister's old all girl high school. I felt good about this, I felt ready to tackle something new and for the first time I was excited about running a straight shot out and back.
Upon starting the run, I felt strange. I felt like I was going fast. I probably wasn't, at least by high school cross country standards, but at the same time, I felt like I was trying very hard. I felt good, and I kept this up until I hit a very busy road near the highway called Oranoque. It's funny how a busy road just always seems to sound noisier even when there are no cars on it. This was not the case this time there were plenty of cars buzzing by my head, as if they were making a noble effort to slice my head off with their left rearview mirror. There was one landscaping truck that beeped at me. When they drove by I gave them a dirty look and mouthed fucked you. It's both infantile and pretty monotonous of an action but it brought me back into the code of the runner.
When I was running 10 miles a day, you really couldn't help but run on a busy road and then you couldn't help but have a confrontation with some asshole driving, who would either honk, yell, or do something else obnoxious to make you jump or get you pissed. The code of the runner, was to ignore and not let it phase you or at least that was the honorable thing to do. What us high schoolers did was either flip them off, tell them to fuck themselves, kick their bumper at a stop light, or quietly wish for them to wrap their car around a tree. My favorite thing to do would be to respond to the extremely original and hilarious passerby comment of, "Run, Forrest, Run.", a comment that got old halfway through the first showing of the movie. Upon hearing this, I would speed up, pretend to carry a rifle, and yell in his accent, "I GOTTA FIND BUBBA!" I would either have a response of laughter or silence. The laughter was enjoyable, and the silence just meant they were too stupid to understand the movie its from, never have seen the movie, and therefore they are just pop culture hungry puppies that suck at the next big tit, which is also an enjoyable experience but just for me.
Anyway, I continued past the mile marker and crossed the post road. I didn't hit the button, because I don't live in New York, and I hate it when someone shuts down the entire intersection for 60 seconds so they can take that 3 second jog across one crosswalk. As I was running the last half mile before I was to turn around I felt great until I came to a realization that was troubling. It felt great. I took a look at my surroundings. I looked forward, behind me, and to the sides and realized that I was currently, gradually running downhill. This was only a problem because, I was going to have to run back up that gradual downhill.
A gradual downhill is the worst, when it comes to running. It will either slowly kill you, sometimes without you realizing it, or it can just last forever and wear you down. All of these thoughts were racing through my mind, as I turned around to face the hill head on. I knew how to do it, steady pace, constant, slowly pick it up. The hill got steeper at times and when it did I powered up it. I let the downhill take me to the post road and as it did the song, Freaks and Geeks by Childish Gambino came into my mind and it helped me power up that last hill past the highway.
I crawled the last half mile, I guess I started my kick on the hill way too early. But in this case, I still felt good. I suppose that finally, all the bad felt better than that one good thing: Running, and everything it gave me today.
This morning didn't feel much better. The students I had in the social studies class I was subbing for, were very difficult to manage and they put in quite the terrible mood which caused me to take it out on students that (although still wrong) were probably not as deserving at the students that launched me into such a whirlwind. Regardless I was a very poor teacher today. How could I do something like put my emotions not only into my jobs but also effecting the students' experience in the classroom?
What kind of teacher is that? It's after days like today, where I don't think that I am going to be a good teacher at all. I will be nothing but a student's poor experience through their high school career. But my run today made me feel better about even that.
I was thinking about my run yesterday and my run on saturday and how they could have been so different....
1. One was after a monday and the other was at the beginning of a saturday
Well, there's nothing I can do about the day of the week.
2. One was on a scenic soft trail and the other on a hard street going past car dealerships and adult video stores.
I can't get in the habit of driving to the trail every day, and there aren't really any great trails around here that are longer than a mile loop.
3. One was a straight shot back and forth and the other was a loop.
Well, that was a difference, but normally a loop is much more easier to run then a straight shot back and forth. I mean always a loop was easier to run then a straight shot back and forth.
I always frowned upon running out a little and then back because I felt it to be a lack of creativity. Instead of thinking of a very interesting loop, you just run out a mile and then come back the same way, it's so boring and unoriginal. However, I was trying to get back out there and try to continue some great running and well I guess that doing what I seemed to do right at the valley was the best course of action at this point in the summer. Therefore I clocked a run that went a mile out toward the post road and then I would cross the post road and go another half mile, which ended right after I passed by my sister's old all girl high school. I felt good about this, I felt ready to tackle something new and for the first time I was excited about running a straight shot out and back.
Upon starting the run, I felt strange. I felt like I was going fast. I probably wasn't, at least by high school cross country standards, but at the same time, I felt like I was trying very hard. I felt good, and I kept this up until I hit a very busy road near the highway called Oranoque. It's funny how a busy road just always seems to sound noisier even when there are no cars on it. This was not the case this time there were plenty of cars buzzing by my head, as if they were making a noble effort to slice my head off with their left rearview mirror. There was one landscaping truck that beeped at me. When they drove by I gave them a dirty look and mouthed fucked you. It's both infantile and pretty monotonous of an action but it brought me back into the code of the runner.
When I was running 10 miles a day, you really couldn't help but run on a busy road and then you couldn't help but have a confrontation with some asshole driving, who would either honk, yell, or do something else obnoxious to make you jump or get you pissed. The code of the runner, was to ignore and not let it phase you or at least that was the honorable thing to do. What us high schoolers did was either flip them off, tell them to fuck themselves, kick their bumper at a stop light, or quietly wish for them to wrap their car around a tree. My favorite thing to do would be to respond to the extremely original and hilarious passerby comment of, "Run, Forrest, Run.", a comment that got old halfway through the first showing of the movie. Upon hearing this, I would speed up, pretend to carry a rifle, and yell in his accent, "I GOTTA FIND BUBBA!" I would either have a response of laughter or silence. The laughter was enjoyable, and the silence just meant they were too stupid to understand the movie its from, never have seen the movie, and therefore they are just pop culture hungry puppies that suck at the next big tit, which is also an enjoyable experience but just for me.
Anyway, I continued past the mile marker and crossed the post road. I didn't hit the button, because I don't live in New York, and I hate it when someone shuts down the entire intersection for 60 seconds so they can take that 3 second jog across one crosswalk. As I was running the last half mile before I was to turn around I felt great until I came to a realization that was troubling. It felt great. I took a look at my surroundings. I looked forward, behind me, and to the sides and realized that I was currently, gradually running downhill. This was only a problem because, I was going to have to run back up that gradual downhill.
A gradual downhill is the worst, when it comes to running. It will either slowly kill you, sometimes without you realizing it, or it can just last forever and wear you down. All of these thoughts were racing through my mind, as I turned around to face the hill head on. I knew how to do it, steady pace, constant, slowly pick it up. The hill got steeper at times and when it did I powered up it. I let the downhill take me to the post road and as it did the song, Freaks and Geeks by Childish Gambino came into my mind and it helped me power up that last hill past the highway.
I crawled the last half mile, I guess I started my kick on the hill way too early. But in this case, I still felt good. I suppose that finally, all the bad felt better than that one good thing: Running, and everything it gave me today.
Monday, June 13, 2011
To Envy a Squirrel
I was ready for three miles today. It never crossed my mind to run anything less and I even completely prepared a new route that had to do with running on the post road. I was ready for action.
When I began to run today I felt lighter than air. I was ready to keep moving and continued on a great pace. After the mile mark when I turned on the post road, something amazing happened. I had to stop at an intersection because of oncoming traffic, and when I did so, I wanted to keep running. Recently when I was given the excuse to stop on a run, I would relish in that excuse and enjoy every minute of it. But today, I wanted to keep running while standing at that intersection. However, when I turned off the Post Road, continuing on my run, I felt worse and worse. My legs grew heavy and I started to get even heavier.
It was at around the second mile where I needed to stop. I haven't stopped willingly on a run since I started this little project. I felt defeat, anger, shame. It was only a few moments later that my head rose up with an angry face and I powered through the last mile. It was with a quarter mile left that I hurt more than I have in a long while. I ran by a squirrel lying in the road with a new haircut in the shape of a tire track. I envied him for a brief moment.
I guess I never really do well with the bad days. I tend to think more negative than positive and therefore I tend to think that my life is fulling apart at the smallest imperfection, just like a squirrel after a tire track. But things will get better, they already have.
When I began to run today I felt lighter than air. I was ready to keep moving and continued on a great pace. After the mile mark when I turned on the post road, something amazing happened. I had to stop at an intersection because of oncoming traffic, and when I did so, I wanted to keep running. Recently when I was given the excuse to stop on a run, I would relish in that excuse and enjoy every minute of it. But today, I wanted to keep running while standing at that intersection. However, when I turned off the Post Road, continuing on my run, I felt worse and worse. My legs grew heavy and I started to get even heavier.
It was at around the second mile where I needed to stop. I haven't stopped willingly on a run since I started this little project. I felt defeat, anger, shame. It was only a few moments later that my head rose up with an angry face and I powered through the last mile. It was with a quarter mile left that I hurt more than I have in a long while. I ran by a squirrel lying in the road with a new haircut in the shape of a tire track. I envied him for a brief moment.
I guess I never really do well with the bad days. I tend to think more negative than positive and therefore I tend to think that my life is fulling apart at the smallest imperfection, just like a squirrel after a tire track. But things will get better, they already have.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Back to the Valley
The Valley was the weekend recluse for the four years of high school. It was the place where after running on the streets of Fairfield for five days straight we were finally given the fun and excitement of a trail run. There was never a better feeling than running through the woods, dodging different trees, branches, logs, rocks, and roots. Blazing through the wilderness racing nothing but each other and nature. it is truly the most poetic form of running.
For those that didn't want to run as many miles or wanted to add more miles to the 6 mile trail loop, they would run on the railway bed right next to the trails. It was a flat, two and a half mile stretch of flat trail that was wide enough for runners, bike riders, dog walkers, and amateur fisherman hoping for the big catch in the river down the hill from the bed. This was where I chose to run three miles for the first time this summer.
It was simple, I just had to run to the 1.5 mile mark and then run back. Once I made the 1.5 mile mark, I had no choice but to run the full 3, because I had to run back. I was greeted that morning by my old coach and the high school team just starting out their summer training for cross country. It took me back to when I was looking at the beginning of summer. Faced with the task of completely over 500 miles for the summer, which would go up to 8 to 10 miles a day. I always tried to do so, but whenever I did, my knee would give out by August and I would slowly be piecing myself together for the beginning of the cross country season. I watched those little guys take off for the six miler while I headed to the railway bed.
It hurt. It was tough to pick up my heavy legs when I got to the first half mile mark. Back when I ran the valley there were small posts that were half mile markers. Now there were giant benches downloaded by the town rotary. When you are a competitive runner, the mile markers are what help you pace yourself, what help you know if your getting 8 miles or 7 and a half, they are your best friend. But when you are an out of shape fat ass, they are your worse enemy. They are a school yard kid taunting you, saying you have only gone this far and you have so much more to go. You anticipate them, but they also make things so much slower.
As I awaited that 1.5 Mile Marker, I just said to myself, "Just make it to 1 and a half miles. Then you're set. Then you will make three miles no matter what." It took everything to get the 1.5 and there it was, sitting there at the end of a turn in the railway bed, like a beacon. I was struggling to teach it. However, upon doing so, I found myself thinking something crazy, "What if I went to the two mile mark." I don't know how this thought came into my mind, and where the energy came from but as I reached that 1.5 mile mark I said, "Fuck It!" And went to a giant rock which is right next to the two mile mark. The way back should have been a difficult one, but knowing that I was running four miles for the first time, when I planned to run three for the first time was a good enough feeling for me to finish the run with lifted spirits.
I'm not a high school runner anymore.
I'm not running so that I can score big in Cross Country this year.
I don't want five hundred miles or 8 miles a day
and I'm not running so that I can run with the high schoolers that took off for the six mile loop.
I'm running for me. I'm running to challenge myself. I had no reason for going four. But I loved doing it. I'm doing what I love. That's what it comes down to.
For those that didn't want to run as many miles or wanted to add more miles to the 6 mile trail loop, they would run on the railway bed right next to the trails. It was a flat, two and a half mile stretch of flat trail that was wide enough for runners, bike riders, dog walkers, and amateur fisherman hoping for the big catch in the river down the hill from the bed. This was where I chose to run three miles for the first time this summer.
It was simple, I just had to run to the 1.5 mile mark and then run back. Once I made the 1.5 mile mark, I had no choice but to run the full 3, because I had to run back. I was greeted that morning by my old coach and the high school team just starting out their summer training for cross country. It took me back to when I was looking at the beginning of summer. Faced with the task of completely over 500 miles for the summer, which would go up to 8 to 10 miles a day. I always tried to do so, but whenever I did, my knee would give out by August and I would slowly be piecing myself together for the beginning of the cross country season. I watched those little guys take off for the six miler while I headed to the railway bed.
It hurt. It was tough to pick up my heavy legs when I got to the first half mile mark. Back when I ran the valley there were small posts that were half mile markers. Now there were giant benches downloaded by the town rotary. When you are a competitive runner, the mile markers are what help you pace yourself, what help you know if your getting 8 miles or 7 and a half, they are your best friend. But when you are an out of shape fat ass, they are your worse enemy. They are a school yard kid taunting you, saying you have only gone this far and you have so much more to go. You anticipate them, but they also make things so much slower.
As I awaited that 1.5 Mile Marker, I just said to myself, "Just make it to 1 and a half miles. Then you're set. Then you will make three miles no matter what." It took everything to get the 1.5 and there it was, sitting there at the end of a turn in the railway bed, like a beacon. I was struggling to teach it. However, upon doing so, I found myself thinking something crazy, "What if I went to the two mile mark." I don't know how this thought came into my mind, and where the energy came from but as I reached that 1.5 mile mark I said, "Fuck It!" And went to a giant rock which is right next to the two mile mark. The way back should have been a difficult one, but knowing that I was running four miles for the first time, when I planned to run three for the first time was a good enough feeling for me to finish the run with lifted spirits.
I'm not a high school runner anymore.
I'm not running so that I can score big in Cross Country this year.
I don't want five hundred miles or 8 miles a day
and I'm not running so that I can run with the high schoolers that took off for the six mile loop.
I'm running for me. I'm running to challenge myself. I had no reason for going four. But I loved doing it. I'm doing what I love. That's what it comes down to.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I Can't Tonight, Honey. I Have a Headache
The past two days were either severe heat or lightning storms. You can tell me that it was just me making excuses, and maybe it was, but hell I didn't want to go out there in those conditions.
Today I taught fourth graders and they were a rather rambunctious crowd. Being a substitute teacher at this time is always difficult. The students always try to get the better of you and they are most deservedly excited for the summer. With that in mind, it was a very long day today. The most notable being that the students were stunned to find out that I traded pokemon cards when I was there age. They were floored. It made me feel pretty old but at the same time, I am pretty old. There loud and energetic demeanor the entire day led me to having a headache.
I wasn't planning on running today and at the last moment I thought I should. But, even after advil, this headache didn't seem to subside. i thought of the old cliche of when a husband wants to get intimate with his wife and she shuts him down with the famous excuse of, "Not Tonight, Honey. I have a headache."
I imagined running being that pesky male partner wanting to get going and I was the rather unenthusiastic partner with the headache that just wanted to rest. Well using this analogy I felt rather bad for running and for desperate horny males everywhere I decided to go for just a mile. I began to run and started to feel great, so I took the turn for two miles. There was another turn that I have not even thought about taking this summer, the turn for the four mile loop. I considered it today, but I felt soar and decided to take the turn for two. I guess thinking about doing it and almost doing it is just as much progress and just as much of a start then any other.
Thank goodness that I took that turn because while going up that hill I felt terrible. When I reached the top of the two mile hill, I felt even worse and wanted to stop but I have always been raised to blast off at the crest of the hill was just what I needed to do. I didn't blast off however and I barely even moved but I did not stop which has been the ongoing goal. I barely crawled into my yard for the finish and man did I feel terrible. I guess if we're going with the headache analogy you could say that I didn't actually have sex with running, nor did running have sex with me, but running flat out fucked me.
Today I taught fourth graders and they were a rather rambunctious crowd. Being a substitute teacher at this time is always difficult. The students always try to get the better of you and they are most deservedly excited for the summer. With that in mind, it was a very long day today. The most notable being that the students were stunned to find out that I traded pokemon cards when I was there age. They were floored. It made me feel pretty old but at the same time, I am pretty old. There loud and energetic demeanor the entire day led me to having a headache.
I wasn't planning on running today and at the last moment I thought I should. But, even after advil, this headache didn't seem to subside. i thought of the old cliche of when a husband wants to get intimate with his wife and she shuts him down with the famous excuse of, "Not Tonight, Honey. I have a headache."
I imagined running being that pesky male partner wanting to get going and I was the rather unenthusiastic partner with the headache that just wanted to rest. Well using this analogy I felt rather bad for running and for desperate horny males everywhere I decided to go for just a mile. I began to run and started to feel great, so I took the turn for two miles. There was another turn that I have not even thought about taking this summer, the turn for the four mile loop. I considered it today, but I felt soar and decided to take the turn for two. I guess thinking about doing it and almost doing it is just as much progress and just as much of a start then any other.
Thank goodness that I took that turn because while going up that hill I felt terrible. When I reached the top of the two mile hill, I felt even worse and wanted to stop but I have always been raised to blast off at the crest of the hill was just what I needed to do. I didn't blast off however and I barely even moved but I did not stop which has been the ongoing goal. I barely crawled into my yard for the finish and man did I feel terrible. I guess if we're going with the headache analogy you could say that I didn't actually have sex with running, nor did running have sex with me, but running flat out fucked me.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
You Never Know
I have been sans computer for the past few days so I will catch up with what has happened the past few days.
I suppose that because I haven't had much to be cheery about that I have been thinking pretty negatively about getting back into shape. I have been running about 2 miles a day at a slow pace when I used to be able to run 10 a day at a much faster pace. But if the last two days of running taught me anything. It is to keep my head up because good news and good feelings could come sooner that I think.
Monday might have been the worst running day that I have had in quite some time. My legs didn't hurt that much and I wasn't feeling like crap, like I have sometimes felt even when in shape. But the moment that I took off for a two mile run I truly did not want to run at all. I really did not want to run another step. It wasn't for any reason in particular, it's just that my heart wasn't into it. About 100 feet in I just wanted to turn around and go back. I tried to reason with myself and say that I would cut it down to just the mile loop and finally I was able to convince myself to at least go that mile.
I was thinking that it was just mentally an off day. Those happen all the time. But then on Tuesday, I once again felt terrible. Not sick or sore, but I truly did not want to run. I did not want to strap on my shoes and run. I didn't even want to think about running. I have never felt that way in a very long time, or ever. I couldn't put my finger on the feeling. I definitely haven't been overtraining. I think the heat may have an affect on my morale but other than that there is no good reason.
At about nine o'clock I took a large gulp, laced up my aasics and sacked up for a one mile run. However, when I began to run something strange happened. I actually began to feel good. Very good. Because of this new good feeling, I decided to take the turn for two miles. I continued to run harder and harder and just seemed to feel better and better. I even tried my luck at running by a radar gun which didn't make a hell of a lot of sense but it still felt good to do. I was clocked at 17 MPH by the way. I finished in a cool summer night, feeling great about myself.
This reminded me of a time that took place during the senior year of my high school. It was the last dual meet of the season and it was against two rivals of our high school and it was one our home turf. I was ready to run a damn good race and was really excited to see what our team would do. I finished last in the race, for the sole reason that I was not in the right frame of mind. I was just getting out of a knee injury and I was just mentally not there. It was a heartbreaking loss for the team and for me personally.
About a week later, the team was running a track workout. 400 repeats. I ran them okay. Not great. Not bad. Just okay. It was the second to last one that I ran terrible for some reason. I just was once again mentally not there. My coach asked me what the hell happened and I said that my mind just got to me. I told him that it felt just like the previous race. Coach Ford is all about a runners mentality and that it affects everything about a runners success on the track and cross country course. I was about to start my last 400 when he stopped me. He called Mike over. Mike was another senior runner who never would see the top seven varsity but still gave it his all and was a great help to the team. He had Mike run his 400 first. When he took off Coach Ford then had me approach the line and when Mike was 200 meters away, Coach told me to go. By the end of the 400 I caught up with Mike and finished with my best time of the day. Coach asked me how that felt, and regardless of him being my elder I told him, "That felt fucking great." The next race I ran my best race of the season.
Running is all about mentality. You are going to have good and bad days because of your physical state that day, but also your mental state can affect you day in and day out. You can sometimes have an affect on that, but sometimes you may not. I guess the best I can say is that just try to get out and run everyday regardless of your day before, because you never know....
I suppose that because I haven't had much to be cheery about that I have been thinking pretty negatively about getting back into shape. I have been running about 2 miles a day at a slow pace when I used to be able to run 10 a day at a much faster pace. But if the last two days of running taught me anything. It is to keep my head up because good news and good feelings could come sooner that I think.
Monday might have been the worst running day that I have had in quite some time. My legs didn't hurt that much and I wasn't feeling like crap, like I have sometimes felt even when in shape. But the moment that I took off for a two mile run I truly did not want to run at all. I really did not want to run another step. It wasn't for any reason in particular, it's just that my heart wasn't into it. About 100 feet in I just wanted to turn around and go back. I tried to reason with myself and say that I would cut it down to just the mile loop and finally I was able to convince myself to at least go that mile.
I was thinking that it was just mentally an off day. Those happen all the time. But then on Tuesday, I once again felt terrible. Not sick or sore, but I truly did not want to run. I did not want to strap on my shoes and run. I didn't even want to think about running. I have never felt that way in a very long time, or ever. I couldn't put my finger on the feeling. I definitely haven't been overtraining. I think the heat may have an affect on my morale but other than that there is no good reason.
At about nine o'clock I took a large gulp, laced up my aasics and sacked up for a one mile run. However, when I began to run something strange happened. I actually began to feel good. Very good. Because of this new good feeling, I decided to take the turn for two miles. I continued to run harder and harder and just seemed to feel better and better. I even tried my luck at running by a radar gun which didn't make a hell of a lot of sense but it still felt good to do. I was clocked at 17 MPH by the way. I finished in a cool summer night, feeling great about myself.
This reminded me of a time that took place during the senior year of my high school. It was the last dual meet of the season and it was against two rivals of our high school and it was one our home turf. I was ready to run a damn good race and was really excited to see what our team would do. I finished last in the race, for the sole reason that I was not in the right frame of mind. I was just getting out of a knee injury and I was just mentally not there. It was a heartbreaking loss for the team and for me personally.
About a week later, the team was running a track workout. 400 repeats. I ran them okay. Not great. Not bad. Just okay. It was the second to last one that I ran terrible for some reason. I just was once again mentally not there. My coach asked me what the hell happened and I said that my mind just got to me. I told him that it felt just like the previous race. Coach Ford is all about a runners mentality and that it affects everything about a runners success on the track and cross country course. I was about to start my last 400 when he stopped me. He called Mike over. Mike was another senior runner who never would see the top seven varsity but still gave it his all and was a great help to the team. He had Mike run his 400 first. When he took off Coach Ford then had me approach the line and when Mike was 200 meters away, Coach told me to go. By the end of the 400 I caught up with Mike and finished with my best time of the day. Coach asked me how that felt, and regardless of him being my elder I told him, "That felt fucking great." The next race I ran my best race of the season.
Running is all about mentality. You are going to have good and bad days because of your physical state that day, but also your mental state can affect you day in and day out. You can sometimes have an affect on that, but sometimes you may not. I guess the best I can say is that just try to get out and run everyday regardless of your day before, because you never know....
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Sunday Sore Sunday
I was ridiculously tired today. Might have to do with my graduation party yesterday, not sure. All I know is that the two miles I ran today were difficult but did not feel impossible.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Turning a Corner
I didn't run on Friday. The reason is unknown. I had time. I thought about running all day. But when it came I just...didn't. I wasn't lazy. I wasn't getting out of anything. I am not exactly sure why but it happened.
Regardless, sometimes the best thing to do is take a day off, because today went fantastic and I haven't felt that good on a one mile run nevermind a two mile run. I really feel like I am slowly making my way into my element and will be going up to 3 miles a day in the next few weeks.
Things are headed in a positive direction...at least for now.
One thing interesting on this run was when my golden jesus chain somehow got out of my shirt and kept on hitting me. It's never happened before, but for some reason, I'm assuming my neckhole on the shirt was too big, the chain kept slipping out and constantly hitting me in the chest. I guess becuase I am writing about my day to day actions I can see symbolism in day to day happenings.
I was very religious in high school. I was a leader of religious retreats, a eucharistic minister, and I would sometimes organize 24 hour prayer services. It seemed in college that I really lost sight of my religion. I can't say why. There was no catastophe or tragedy that I experienced and I still dig God and all of that. I am just not into it as much as I used to be.
I don't know what this has to do with anything. But it is something that is on my mind.
Regardless, sometimes the best thing to do is take a day off, because today went fantastic and I haven't felt that good on a one mile run nevermind a two mile run. I really feel like I am slowly making my way into my element and will be going up to 3 miles a day in the next few weeks.
Things are headed in a positive direction...at least for now.
One thing interesting on this run was when my golden jesus chain somehow got out of my shirt and kept on hitting me. It's never happened before, but for some reason, I'm assuming my neckhole on the shirt was too big, the chain kept slipping out and constantly hitting me in the chest. I guess becuase I am writing about my day to day actions I can see symbolism in day to day happenings.
I was very religious in high school. I was a leader of religious retreats, a eucharistic minister, and I would sometimes organize 24 hour prayer services. It seemed in college that I really lost sight of my religion. I can't say why. There was no catastophe or tragedy that I experienced and I still dig God and all of that. I am just not into it as much as I used to be.
I don't know what this has to do with anything. But it is something that is on my mind.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Outsmarting My Laziness
It's Late. I will talk later about today but pretty much I barely had any time to run and I still got out there and ran. Because I knew I was just making excuses.
Not only that but in order to get out there, I said I would only do one, but I turned the corner to turn it into two.
I am beginning to question and challenge myself and although I felt like shit running. It feels good to finally begin to push myself again.
Not only that but in order to get out there, I said I would only do one, but I turned the corner to turn it into two.
I am beginning to question and challenge myself and although I felt like shit running. It feels good to finally begin to push myself again.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Finding My Inner Han
There is a moment in Star Wars when Luke and Han are shooting down TIE Fighters and Luke shoots one down and cheers. "I got one!" Han then congratulates him, but instucts him to "not get cocky." Well yesterday I "got one". I had a great day running and I thought that nothing could stand in my way. What I needed was a little inner Han to tell me not to get cocky, because today was VERY difficult and I did a terrible job.
At the start of the run, my calf muscles were extremely tight. This would normally be bad news for a runner who was in shape, but oddly, it felt good to have this pain. It showed that I was beginning to run quite a bit and start to feel like I was in shape. I was throwing my muscles into pain. I am on the cusp of being regular. This was the only good news on the run. It hurt. The run pretty much hurt. But I remember another scene from another film.
In One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Jack Nicholson's characters bets the rest of the mental hospital that he could lift a sink, throw it out the window, and escape. He tried to do it and failed. Everyone was staring at him when he finally looked across the crowd and said, "What? At least I tried." As runners, it is difficult to have a good day every day. Sometimeswe run slow. We feel like shit. And we spend the entire run praying that it was over. But you need to say to yourself, "At least I went out there. At least I tried." It's sometimes the best victory a runner can afford.
At the start of the run, my calf muscles were extremely tight. This would normally be bad news for a runner who was in shape, but oddly, it felt good to have this pain. It showed that I was beginning to run quite a bit and start to feel like I was in shape. I was throwing my muscles into pain. I am on the cusp of being regular. This was the only good news on the run. It hurt. The run pretty much hurt. But I remember another scene from another film.
In One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Jack Nicholson's characters bets the rest of the mental hospital that he could lift a sink, throw it out the window, and escape. He tried to do it and failed. Everyone was staring at him when he finally looked across the crowd and said, "What? At least I tried." As runners, it is difficult to have a good day every day. Sometimeswe run slow. We feel like shit. And we spend the entire run praying that it was over. But you need to say to yourself, "At least I went out there. At least I tried." It's sometimes the best victory a runner can afford.
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