Marathon: My Marijuana

So yesterday was the 20th of April, also known as 4/20 aka 420 and "let's all get high" to stoners day--a holiday for them of sorts. One in which I neither partake NOR do I endorse. I do not endorse substance use/abuse of any kind in any way, shape or form. Well, caffeine as the exception. I go so far that I don't even take advil, ibuproferin (I can't even spell it!), aspirin, etc. I think we should learn to listen to our bodies and respond to its needs accordingly and naturally. (I should also say that I DO advocate medical interventions when necessary as the last resort. They can work, and must be used with caution, in my twentysixpoint two cents worth.).

Anyway, I was having coffee this morning with a longtime friend (E) and her partner (K). All three of us have a more intimate relationship with alcoholism and/or substance abuse than we might otherwise prefer. E was saying that she feels so much more balanced now that she's doing some running, she said "now if I mix in yoga..." at which point I chimed in, "it'd be like being high on marijuana all the time, but substance free!"

You see, for me, running IS my drug. When I don't do it for any period of time exceeding 3-4 days, I feel out of sorts. My legs cramp, they become fidgety, my brain is foggy, I have pent up energy and I struggle to make sense of the world around me. I've never partaken in marijuana or any other illicit/illegal substance (save for the occasional alcoholic beverage at 19 and 20) so I really have nothing to compare it to, but I imagine that's what it is like.

After I run, I feel more balanced, calmer, sedate, ready to tackle the world. My world makes more sense to me. Marathon training is my marijuana. It's also my therapy. What better therapist can there be than a pair of shoes, running shorts and God's great Universe?

For those of you who may be struggling with something...maybe a relationship isn't going right, maybe you have an addiction to drugs, alcohol, food, etc, perhaps there's a struggle at the workplace. Might I suggest lacing up and pounding it out on the pavement? You don't need to toke up, shoot up, stir up or any other up-just lace up your shoes and hit the road Jack or Jill. God will find you, and so will your answers. Or at least that's my 26point2centsworth anyway. . .

Put in the work; Release it to the Universe

Today, I'm going to hit you over the head with the metaphor of the day: If you don't put in the work, you're not going to yield the results you want.

This is sort of the metaphor I live by. I've always heard it growing up. I've always KNOWN it. But I didn't LIVE it until my first marathon some five years ago. Gosh, I really do believe that The Marathon is The Ultimate life-metaphor. Read on ...

Yesterday (and arguably today, but it's still early) I did not want to get my run in. I am behind on three of my contracts. Have a grant to update. Volunteers to coordinate for a 1,200 wall rehab inside the Youth Center, yada yada yada. But my goal is to complete this Marine Corps Marathon in under 4:00:00. That's a lofty goal for me given my first was well over 4 (though my last was just barely) and I recalled that to run fast, one must train fast. Hell, one must simply TRAIN to just finish! And so, despite the chaos of the day, I forced myself to do a brisk four-mile run on the treadmill at the Y. I did my first quasi fartlek run (Click Here for Fartlek Run Info) which generally kills me.


My mantra of the run was, "to finish fast, you must train fast, to finish fast you must train fast." and really, all that's saying is to FINISH you must TRAIN. That's how one should live life. If you do the right training in the right way at the right time, you're going to finish in the right way. Put in the work, and release it to the Universe.

It's as simple as that. Put in the work, and release it to the Universe. Now, it's time for me to grab another cup of coffee, finish this grant and drag myself out to Iroquois Park for another brisk run. Today, I'm putting in the right work at the right time for the right finish. Are you?

Raccoon. Mud. Jiggly Man Boobs. Phlegm. Compression Shorts.

Bright red shorts. Trees fallen. Random orange cones and water tables. 

No music. Brisk morning. Vomit. Few people. 

Pollen. Gorgeous sky. Blinding sun. 

These are a few of the things that I encountered on my run this morning. I may have already blogged about the point of today's, forgive me if I have but it comes to me often. 

I only do a marathon about once every two years (this will be my third in 5 years' time). I've discovered it takes about a full year-18 months to forget the intense pain, incredible sacrifices, total commitment and unfathomable insanity to complete a full marathon. I mean, you can't safely just wake up and say, "today, I'm running a marathon!" though i know of people who have. I train for at least 3-6 months. Each month brings a different level of discipline. Currently, I am just building my base-mileage up. In May, I cut out candy. In June, I increase mileage and salads. Etc. 

What I've also learned is the sense of satisfaction, glory, accomplishment, pride, et. al. of EACH Marathon persists far beyond the memory of any such sacrifices or pain. Yes, the stories of the sacrifice/pain are forever woven into dinner-party conversation (I remember that time when ___________________) but really, that is part of the pride and accomplishment.

To me, this is a clear correlation and metaphor for life. When you're in the thick of it (and I'm just now getting in the thick of THIS marathon with today's run at 10 miles) it is easy to focus on the pain (I'm sitting 14 hours later with my legs propped, raw toes, a tender nipple, tight calves and an inexplicable pain in my right pinky toe area), but I know if I want that sense of accomplishment, the pride, the cheering, the glory I must endure through the pain, prep and sacrifice. 

This blog is messy. My mind is messy. My running today was messy, actually. So I guess in the grand scheme, this blog is right up there with today's long run: pointless, messy, never-ending and boring. Oh well, that's my 26point2centsworth for ya! 

Street Team!

My first marathon training went something like this: read EVERYTHING on running, run a lot, eat right, talk non stop about running, drink water, etc, etc. I read an article somewhere that said to put your name on your shirt so people could cheer for you. So, I went and bought iron on lettering. On the front I placed, "Donald JR" on it. On the back was "Marathon Virgin" My thinking was people would yell my name wildly as I approached them and people would send well wishes as they inevitably passed me up! 

VICTORY! 

It worked! 

People chided me that Donald SR had already passed me. They yelled Donald, Junior, JR. The enthusiastically clasped my shoulder at times when I was doubled over in pain and defeat as they glided past me. Yes, I had a street team of about 10 strategically placed, but for those 26.2 miles and 4+ hours my street team swelled to THOUSANDS! It was AWESOME seeing the first school group in the home stretch. We were on Bayshore (remember we call it BOYshore), the wind was slicing across the Bay, only 4 miles separated me from being a marathon virgin and a marathoner. Along the side, I saw a group of about 30 kids with those thunder sticks, cow bells, pom poms, etc. CHEERING FOR ME! These people didn't even know me, yet they came out on a Saturday morning to cheer me on to success. O-M-Goodness!

A lesson I have held with me since: people really do want me to succeed. Even people I don't know. If I put myself in the right environment, people WANT me to succeed. I said on a first (and subsequently only) date once that I thought it was impossible for me not to succeed at whatever I tried. I still do. Back on that January morning some five years ago on Bayshore Blvd , somewhere between mile 22 and 24 I realized that I, a youth worker and educator had received one of the most important lessons of my life, and it was from the very students I was charged with educating. It is a simple lesson and it is this: surround yourself with your own street team, look around, all these people want YOU to succeed. They're there to give you high 5's, cheer you on, provide a dollop of vaseline when needed, a smile when not. They are there to carry me when I cannot carry myself. They are there to ensure I succeed. How powerful. 

Am I Too Strideful?

And so the build up has begun. 

Iroquois Park, Spring 2012
(taken BEFORE storm, no debris)

Today's run: 6.7 miles. 56 minutes. Rain. Leaves. Debris. Thoughts. Jumbled. Slight pain. Moderate discomfort. Complete euphoria at mile 5 (finally!). Yes, the build up has begun! 

Two themes emerged today (well three really, my dad died five months ago today, so that has been a theme for the day, not relegated to my running) and they are about the debris in the road and the sense of accomplishment that lies in the completion of a marathon versus the pain. 

So I'll focus on the debris in the road, that's what kept coming back to me. 

Louisville, KY, experienced some heavy and sudden storms last night. I do all my training runs in Iroquois Park-Louisville's most beautiful and underrated park (Click here for Louisville's BEST park!). Not only did I grow up running through this park, it has largely remained unkempt. Or at least not overly manicured. You truly can feel completely removed from the city, and yet experience some of the best VIEWS of the city (future blog: The View You Have to Work For). As this is an old park, after any significant storm there may be anything from simply leaves to a large tree obstructing the path. Of course, on any given day there could also be deer, chipmunks, groundhogs/beavers/honeybadgers/clearlyihavenoidea and lots of things in bloom alongside random little streams. Did I mention this is my favorite place in Louisville? I feel the presence of God every time I'm on a run here. 

Downtown Louisville from Iroquois Park, 2011 (day before my dad died)

I was nearing the summit of an elevation today on my first loop (the park has a 3.3 mile loop at the bottom, I repeat it as many times as needed to get my miles ticked off). As if I needed any added challenge I came across a veritable minefield of debris. With oncoming traffic, I was left with little choice to but to slog through. So slog I did. Dodging this pile of leaves, that clod of mud. This twig and that limb. I got bent out of shape because I had to change my stride. CHANGE MY STRIDE I SAID! Every runner who runs with any regularity and distance gets into a stride. It doesn't change. I can tell you my per minute miles based on my stride. When Trino and I were running buddies, we could tell if the other was having a bad day based on their stride. Did I mention I HAD TO CHANGE MY STRIDE in order to avoid the debris in the road. Clearly, I was left unsettled. 

And then I thought. 

Some of the friends I hand with at Iroquois Park

How often do we get stuck in a stride. Nee, a rut? We go about life with the same speed as the day before. And the day before. And the day before. And then debris gets in the way and messes it all up! I suppose I did have some choices when I was reaching that summit today. I could have stopped and waited for the cars to move out of the way,  I could have trailblazed and went on through, I could have kept going and HOPED the cars would have stopped. But I didn't, I chose to change my stride. My feet struck the pavement in a different rhythm, I nearly stumbled, I felt out of sorts. Literally, I felt out of sorts for at least 12 paces until I regained my stride. 

And then I thought, am I so strideful that I forget to change and experience a new (and possibly better) stride? Literally or metaphorically, the question's relevance is the same. 

Just Another Minute. . .

Today's running theme was simple: Just another minute. How many times have we told ourselves that? Usually it is in an attempt to procrastinate something. For me, it is is most often repeated before getting out of bed. Again and again and again. When I was in kindergarten, my grandma would wake me up in time for school. I would thrust my hand up and out of the blankets (particularly on cold mornings!) with my fingers spread far apart and say, "Just five more minutes, Grandma, just five more minutes." I often persuaded her, though I bet she woke me up five minutes before I needed to be up in anticipation.

Today, I used that same power of persuasion to keep me going. I needed to get four miles in today to achieve my goal of 20 for the week. It is daunting to believe that I'm struggling to get 20 in a week's time when come October 28, I will complete 26.2 miles in less than four hours. ACK, can't think about that right now! I digress...so I needed to get four miles in AND I need to work on my speed. To race fast you gotta train fast. SO I set a goal of under 40 minutes (which is NOT the pace I'll need in order to achieve my sub-4:00:00 marathon!). I remembered in my first marathon I would count from 60 to zero at times, thinking it's just another minute. Surely to God I can run for another minute. And then I would repeat that until I saw the mile marker, then the water stop, then the orange slice people, then the cracker people, then the water stop...you get the picture. I persuaded myself one minute at a time. In that moment, the only thing important to me was that next minute. I can do ANYTHING, endure ALL things for only one minute. One sixty-second period and then it's done! And so, every minute, I adjusted the speed. From 6 (10 minute miles) up to 8.5 (7 minute miles) one minute at a time, I would increase by .5, and then I'd persuade myself I can do ANYTHING for one minute. Once I reached the next mile, I started over again knowing I had already proven I could do it once, so I clearly could do it again. Then again. Then again.

And so I did.

Four miles and under 34 minutes later, I had convinced myself I could do it. I'll be danged if I did do it! We often start our Mondays wishing for Fridays and begin our Sundays sorry that the next is a Monday. I feel sorry for people who live for 2 days out of 7. Why not live for the next minute. Yes, there are moments that may be horrid throughout the week, but what if we live fully in that next minute. And then the next. And then the next. What would happen? I wonder what would happen if we disconnect sometimes and be fully present with those in our presence.

So today, after 34 minutes, that's what I was thinking. When life happens, and it will, I will remind myself it's only 60 seconds. Surely to God I can get through sixty seconds of anything!

I don't know if I believe that I have anything worth saying, really. Then again, most blogs I've read also have little to say, but are generous in taking up lots of space to say it in.

My friend, and first (and subsequently only) running buddy Trino and I used to have all these epiphanies while running. Sometimes we had delusions, hallucinations, thoughts on solving global and dating dilemmas. We joked that one day we would put out a book. We came up with chapters like, "Is It Ok To Spit?" "It's Darkest Before the Don" "10 Miles, 2 hills and One Poop Later..." etc. Sometimes these titles were meaningful. At times their sole meaning was to serve as a distraction from the intense pain, dehydration, exhaustion and insanity we were experiencing. You'll see.

It should also be understood running has become a spiritual and sacred journey for me. While ticking off the miles, running off the pounds, sweating out the stress I somehow found myself along the way. I'm hesitant to share my journey for fear I may taint this sacredity (is that a word?). My life has been truly blessed and I've very little to complain about. When I get stressed, my two go-to solutions include anything natural water (ocean, beach, river, spring, creek, etc.) and running. It takes me about 30 minutes to tune the outside world, well, out. And the inside world...uhm...in?

In this blog, I hope to share with you my thoughts and observations of the world as they occur (or have occurred) to me while on a run. It may not be world-moving or shattering. In fact, I believe that there is nothing unique about my perspective, but many have asked me to share them, note them, write them down. So for you, here I go. This is an experiment and I may discontinue if I feel it crosses a line. Again, this journey is my Spiritual Journey. For now, I'm pleased and hesitant to share it with you, letting you into the deepest recesses of my being. I hope you'll appreciate where we may travel together. I don't ask that you agree with me, I don't even ask anything really. So...later today or tomorrow, I would like to begin at the ending and work my way simultaneously forwards and backwards from there. Will you join me?