One of the amazing things about half marathon training has been my increase in terms of endurance. At first the training was just an all out attempt to not collapse in a gasping heap of quivering mess, but now it has evolved into a quest to see just how far, literally, I can take my efforts. For a few recent weeks I was all on top of the training and everything clicked: my bike rides were fantastic as I conquered the hills, my runs were empowering and my post workout stretches/yoga brought total inner peace. But now? Nu-huh. It all really sucks. Every breath is an effort, each step or pedal grueling.
That isn’t to say the first mile or so of each run wasn’t a bitch in half of an argument between my brain and my body, but once I reached mile three or so it all came together in a cosmic combination of trail, muscles in motion and tranquility. At the magic point of mile three I could feel my muscles let go of their daily aggressions. The cartilage between my bones seemed to soften, releasing insecurities and making peace with the attached tendons. And the noise in my head? Gooooooone. Nothing but silence up there where usually chaotic self-flogging reigns for most of my waking hours. In short, some sort of nirvana in motion was happening. It was divine, like crack in a nurturing form.
I am obviously pissed now that I can’t reach this point. Is it gone for good? Will I ever again receive that Holy Communion of running grace? I sure as hell better because to bust my ass and feel like crap? I could stay home and eat ice cream and feel the same way, only minus the exertion.
The other day while taking a breather during a not so good run I took a moment to take these with my iphone. I thought the stringy strands on these berry trees were whimsical in a Dr. Zeuss kind of way.
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