By: MJ
The post gives some context to an absence in my mission statement.
Once upon a time I was a kid who tagged along behind the sheep mobs on long musters. This is not to say I was the only one who did it, but I certainly didn’t mind it.
Attending boarding school gave me the chance to try all sorts of sports, and cross country was one of them. The cricket season was behind me and the soccer season ahead. I was maybe second or fifth in my first X-C race. This seemed to indicate things to come: Good but not great, work harder and move into the placings, plan carefully and take your chances. Be in it for the long run (mind the pun) and there may be something over the horizon (and another pun).
Fast forward a few years (like… 30), to where periods of consistency and good performance were occasionally interrupted by recurring injuries and changes in distance and scene. After a few recent seasons of masters track racing in Colorado, the adventure that lies ahead will be a bit of an intensity break. Being on the move with a lot of variability is not a very good way to train. That’s not an excuse to not run, but more a reason to not race. And that should be quite refreshing – going for unique runs without much to aim for. Will I race? Maybe rarely, but I’d rather use the money to spend more time on the road.
But back to the ‘why’. Why would anyone want to suffer to be near success, want to be outside in pitiful conditions when shelter is always available, or want to slog away at something with no financial reward? I dunno. But there must be something about delayed gratification and voluntary punishment that my brain likes. Something specific enough to make me also find something worthwhile participating in music.
Like music: it’s a hobby and a therapy. Therapy in that I can do it and usually not think about it at all. For non-runners, or those who don’t engage in ‘flow’ activities (I think I will write ‘flow’ as ‘Flow’, because it seems like an old friend and that deserves capitalization), I will bypass the ramblings about timelessness, epiphanies, connectedness, out of exertion experiences, mindfulness, inertia, jubilation, equilibrium, winning, achieving, relief and euphoria. Let’s talk about the negative parts: pain, difficulty breathing, soreness sometimes days after you participated, difficulty moving around your house, random injuries, serial injuries, depression from being injured, missing a goal, missing an in-race opportunity, missing out on sleep, unrequited naps, living fatigue, and trying to explain your “sport” to those who are not wired for it.
These are the parts that have meaning. It’s a little like parenting: the lows make the high higher. The yin and yang.
If I had to nominate the singular thing in my life that paid the most overall benefit, it would be what running takes from and gives to me. And for that I am grateful more as I age, because one day there will be a ‘last run’ and a ‘last race’, and that day is always closer than it was yesterday. And I may not get to elect when the last ones occur.
