Am I the only one who writes in a title at the very end of the composition? Maybe like naming rites I should be waiting 8 days with this piece as a draft and then reveal it to the public with a name. That might be worthwhile in finding all my spelling mistakes. This mornings run with the dog was a planned 45 minute medium effort run, but that is just the working title of the project for today. I leave the house with a reasonable expectation of what I am going to do as far as effort and time goes, but the route is very much up for grabs, along with the overall feeling of the run.
The weather plays a big roll in how I feel about the run. Even though I run year round I do prefer the warmer, even hot, weather. Last night it poured rain and now in the hills there is a fresh layer of snow. My clothing is such that I’m too cold to begin with and therefore need some extra time before my muscles feel warmed up. Once warmed, it seems too hot with the layers.
I’ve spent a good deal of time this morning thinking about my feet. Rather, trying not to think about my feet. Several blisters continue to need treatment and despite the specialized socks, the ointments and the clear blister bandages, there remains enough discomfort for me to be dragged out of the clouds of ecstasy and back into the reality of painful feet. However, things have improved greatly with the ongoing treatment. There is no longer the heaving and dry retching acted out by my lovely wife every time I remove my shoes and socks after a long run, admittedly revealing a globulous red swirling blood-filled blister. My self-treatment is adds to the drama as safety pins are inserted and geysers of blood rich puss shoot across the bathroom tiles. So, indeed, I have wavered between painful feet and the glorious scenery.
Strangely enough, one of my thoughts as I ran today was all about word count and reading speed. I am curious to see that some of the Blog posts online, especially those tagged ‘Long-read’ come with an exact word count along with an estimated time to finish. Is this like my own extrapolated data from my Polar watch which predicts that it will take me around 3 hours to finish a marathon? The notion that an article will take me a certain time to read makes me want to challenge that with some competitive spirit setting up a timer so that I can say, “Ah ha! I beat it with 5 minutes to spare!”. This, by the way, takes all the fun out of reading and harkens back to a horrid elementary school teacher who based all reading on merit of pages read. Who cares about content or retention, just read as much as you can, and for every 50 pages you will get a large orange sticker to place on the class poster.
The same can happen with running. Just doing the distances does not really give you the complete picture; ultimately, the extrapolations are all just a bunch of variables and a best guess. In one race, I witnessed one competitor visibly slow because he let himself get so upset with a positive comment from one of the bystanders. It went something like this: Bystander cheering on the runners (particularly his girlfriend): “Good job! Keep it up! Relax into the race and enjoy every step!” This friendly note (exceedingly friendly if one considers this took place in Germany) was met with grumpy hostility which grew to outrage as one runner responded, “What do you think we are trying to do?! I have trained for this, so of course I will keep up. Are you stupid? What an idiotic thing to say! Ha! Relax. You think this is relaxing! What and idiot!!” Shouting and saying these things did nothing to deter the bystander, as he had long since been passed, and the effect of it all was that breathing rhythm and pace was radically reduced, not to mention the mental desire to run must have had some crucial effect since the man eventually dropped back in the pack and eventually got the distinction of DNF — Did Not Finish. A shame really. Despite all the training, all the reading, all the data, we can still win or loose with simply thinking about things too much.
What I find happens to me on long runs is the challenge of the physical game, and the more difficult challenge of the mental game come into the forefront of my mind at different times during the race, or the route. Mental and physical requests take tag-team responses to you as you pass milage markers. Usually, the physical starts to complain to the Central Governor. Small aches and pains may get noticed. Breathing is laboured. Muscles are cold and stiff. After 30 minutes that all seems a thing of the past as you just get into the flow and ride on auto-pilot, enjoying the scenery and surroundings. Then around 18 kilometres the mental side works itself up and your mind starts to think, isn’t this hill a little steep? Why am I doing this? Wouldn’t it be nice to just stop now and call for a lift? Why is the wind always a head wind? You get the idea. You do all that you can to convince yourself that running is a crumby idea and if you listen to these complaints, just as the man listening to the bystander and interpreting the comments in a completely derogatory way, you will stop.
Running, at least, running alone and not part of a team is just as much a mental game as it is a physical game. It is also a competition with myself. I have been active in team sports, and while they are enjoyable, it is not my preference. I’m not ultra competitive, but I do have standards for myself which I set and plan to achieve. In this way, the mental game is just as important for me as the running competition itself. There is a continuous jockeying for position of the mental and the physical; just as much as there can be the focus on the blistered feet, or the beautiful snow-capped hills.
Short-Stories 