Long Runs = Time to Think

You can think your way through a lot of things on long runs. You can really ponder about the stuff that warrants some attention during a good few-hour run. And, as I discovered on Saturday while enjoying my pacer-duties at the Western States 100mi, you can really dig into the depths when a 40miler takes you from the afternoon, through dusk, and well into the night...

Somewhere along the way, in the midst of much denial, thoughts that ultra-runners range from a little off-their-rocker to bordering on mental instability, and protesting against my "inevitable date with destiny" as a certain friend put it, I have been dragged kicking and screaming into the world of ultramarathons.

The truth is though, I've never been happier.

I've always been borderline fast; never enough to make anything of it, but just enough to keep me on the hook thinking that with enough time and hard work, I'd be able to run something fast enough to be proud of. Yup, my best days are definitely in front of me. I still have time to race a fast marathon. Hell, even my 5k can be drastically improved! After this weekend though, I don't think I really care any more.

I digress from my point; long runs, especially extremely long races, force you inside to face whatever it is that you have been 1) too busy for 2) too scared to deal with 3) name your next excuse here... because when you're out there hurting like hell, your escape routes are somewhat limited. You live from aid-station to aid-station. You crave the enthusiasm of the volunteers just waiting to cater to you hand-and-foot with whatever they have to offer. You see your crew and friends you've been wanting to catch up with for forever. You share a lot with your chosen steed, both spoken and through long bouts of silence. But at the end of the day, you're really on your own. The most logical option is simply to stop. But, since that isn't going to happen, the exertion forces you inwards to focus on whatever it is that you have been avoiding like that irritating sales solicitor knocking on your door just when you find time to chill out. It's an ironic oxymoron really; by taking every random thought and stressor and throwing them all into a pool together, somehow you come out with clarity and a sense of purpose. Maybe that's why the general demographic of "runs more than 5x/week" is a well-educated, above average and often type-A personality. We're all a bunch of worryers with too much on our minds.

I loved every second of that run and there is no place that I would rather have been. Despite being your longest run to-date, you know the effort is nothing when the woman you're running with has already done 60 just to get to you. And just happens to be the first female, which she remained all the way to the finish. That's another story to be shared at another time though. In the mean time, I have some focus, and I have the answers that I didn't know I needed.

Thank you long run.

You never know what you've got 'til it's gone

Which son of a bitch is responsible for that quote? Take it back, please, I get it already.

Why is it that no matter how old I get, I don't seem to learn the lesson behind that damn cliche. Live like it's your last day on earth, love like you've never loved before, I've heard it all before. So why is it that I only truly find out how much I value a friendship until it is threatened by the reality of distance? Is that routed in human nature, or simply my own stubborn way of existence. I guess the fact that the words have become a cliche in the first place answers that question. Regardless, I should be smart enough to transcend the stereotype, or at least learn my lesson on the (insert *high* number here) time around.

But, alas, no, I find myself feeling a little melancholy, somewhat disappointed, and very regretful for being the fool who didn't make more time to spend with said person when I had the chance. I'm not one for excuses, and there are none to be made anyway. Either you get the job done or you don't, and in this case, I don't. The romantic in me says that it's never too late to make amends, so I'm going to cling to that instead of the bottle of my favorite Red Zin that threatens to envelop my conscious entirely if I decide to pour another glass. At least I'm the wiser (read: scared to see what thoughts will truly come out) in that regard...

Lesson for the day: Don't be too consumed with the insignificance's of the day to focus on the things that are really important to you.