Like a child with eyes bigger than their stomach when looking at a feast, I woke to such a gorgeous morning Sunday, that all thoughts of caution flew out of my head. Instead, I felt a rush of excitement about just being out in the morning, and with a "why not?!" decided to tackle one of my favorite loops, the long way to the beach via Dania.
Back in my serious training days, this 13-ish mile loop was my training benchmark for half-marathon racing. I've done it many times. It includes several magical stretches such as the cut between Sheridan and Stirling where the little blue crabs scuttle into their burrows along a waterway, or the broad expanse of Dania Beach boulevard which brings the beach horizon ever closer, or the tunnel of green on Surf Rd, the connector between Dania and North Park beaches, where all the other runners and bikers cruise up and down, skirting the wild cats, the dogs on leashes, the occasional cars looking for parking.
Over-confident, and sunk into my early out-of-bed fog, I felt myself on auto-pilot for the easterly stretch before taking the cut up to Dania, and across to the beach. Where I would normally just slow it down nice and easy I found myself needing to walk, as I came into the Dania parking lot and picked up the path along the shoreline.
Enjoying the welcome distraction of beautiful La Mer as She opened Her arms to welcome me (and catch a few photos), I hobbled my way down Surf road and into North Park and thought; "Whew! I'm done! But I need to get home now....yikes!" And realizing that the umph I might have for a loop this long in the old days was nowhere to be found.
As I lifted my spirits and body from idle, I filled my water bottles and began my way west, up the overpass, admiring the crystalline light making everything seem etched in light, and walked. And walked. For a block or so I put a little hop to it which created a slow (very slow) run, but soon the heat of the day took it all out of me and I walked some more. It took what seemed like an amazingly long time to walk the stretches between West Lake to Federal, Dixie to 95, before finally climbing the last overpass home. Everything was aching; my hips, legs, feet, pain in my shoulders, my back....my body wanted to break down and I kept walking like the proverbial zombie....one foot in front of the other.
For a turtle like me, marathons are like this from about 15-18 miles on. Sheer willpower and gut gets me through the torture my body experiences in those last miles. The fact that I have done- and somehow survived - those experiences has always shown me that the body is more resilient than we know. So somewhere in the midst of my meltdown I reminded myself this distance has not been on the menu for some time. Clearly I am not used to this kind of push. Time to rethink my efforts and ramp it back down.
Many of my running buddies, yes that's you Crash, and you Marlon, are finding new plateaus and benchmarks! At the London marathon this year, the fastest time ever was recorded! I gained much ground in the old days when training seemed like my singular focus in life. But now, it feels I have lost some ground, and training this body requires increasing vigilance to what I do and how.
We have a bad tendency to tunnel vision; whatever state we find ourselves in seems as if it 'should' last forever. So perceived set-backs are like sentences of doom. "I'll never run long again" was coursing through my head, -until I put a halt to it and realized "Maybe I can't run long NOW, or TODAY, but time will give me another chance to make it long again, if I just stay smart- and consistent...."etc.
There are many ways I'm looking at where I apply my re-framing to things. How I choose to turn the dial on my thoughts and focus on which perceptions has lowered my stress- and maybe my expectations. But the road remains. Whether I capture all of it, or some of it, the enticing beauty of Mother Nature is the constant in my running life. I run to embrace Her. And even if sometimes it feels She tricks me with a harsh reality, like the smothering edge of heat or rainstorms, this does nothing to dampen the magnificence of Her landscape.
The Nature of our selves is like this....in the weather of our emotions, there are sometimes harsh environments for our heart. It feels at times as if our dreams are losing ground, and the aches and pains of endurance is too much. But the gains of our experiences truly never leave us, no matter what has changed in the outer world. Gain the ground lost by feeling the invincibility of your Spirit. Whether you captured the goal you wanted or fell short, there are many ways to "get there." Let the road speak to you, and reach beyond the pain to the beauty calling you from every side. It emanates straight from you!
Morning smacked me in the face with strong sunlight; slept later than I planned, but temps read 66 degrees so I could still stay super comfortable out for a while on the roads. The skies were full of feathery clouds as I headed out to the main road, and from sheer habit turned up the overpass to 29th....allowing my body to wake up, stretch out a bit and get a rhythm going.
