Sometimes during a long run I see a lot of people. They smile, nod their head, or give a slight wave as they huff and puff their way down the opposite side of the path or street. An unwritten comradery connects us, we're both out there pushing ourselves physically. Those moments give me an added little boost. If they can do it, I can do it. Sometimes, however, I go out for a run before 7am on an unmarked dirt path and see nobody. During those times I can't help but feel like Forrest Gump.
Forrest decided one day to go for a run alone and kept ruuuunnnning. I'm out there alone. I'm pushing myself for reasons a lot of people probably don't understand - after my 10th mile sometimes even I don't understand. This morning I was runnnnning. And for the first time in a long time - I felt the way I used to about running. I wasn't out there this morning trying to break records or pass the guy ahead of me. I was out there enjoying myself, out there for the pure joy that comes from that adrenaline rush when you get your second/third/fourth wind. At one point I even turned down my music just to hear the sounds of a summer morning and my sneakers hitting the ground. The pace, my breathing. It was a very zen moment. The kind of moment that reminds me of the joys of a journey. My destination is Boston but I need to make sure I am tuned in to everything along the way. Maybe during this journey I'll learn a lot more about myself than I will accomplishing my goal.
Ok I'll stop being so ethereal now. My goal is to qualify for the Boston Marathon. And from a purely statistical point of view this morning's run was a success. I ran 2 miles further than last Saturday's long run and averaged 16 seconds per mile faster. More importantly the first 10 miles were a breeze. The training program this week helped. As a side note in the last 10 days I've burned over 7500 calories.
Day 8: 12 miles, 99 minutes, 8:14 pace.
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