Training run today and it's
sunny and bright and hot.
The woods are filled with horseflies
which change the tone of this outing
from recreational to spiritual trial.
Becoming a blood offering and
watching them dizzily orbiting my head
growing in numbers, finally biting
right between my shoulder blades
just beyond my reach.
They learn,
they adapt,
and so must I.
So I take to the road,
and now it's oblivious cars threatening
and hot pavement beating the soles
of my feet.
But on this trip I come upon a brown snake on a dirt road
close to a Great Blue Heron's long feather and a
a smallish box turtle, withdrawn, except for its watching head,
a dead porcupine, perfectly intact, lying on its side as if only asleep.
I run as softly as I can.
There are many empty pint
and half-pint peppermint schnapps bottles
strewn along the roadside
mile after mile.
Someone in this town has a serious problem.
Imagining him drinking,
bottle kept low in his lap,
driving slowly, searching,
endless night.
My problem, however, is a 100 mile race
with a start and a finish and the question
are you enough?
Out of water now,
stopping to drink from a cemetery spigot,
and no one there takes offense.
My feet hurt already at only three hours in
and my calf muscles twinge and ripple with activity
that I've come to understand as pre-cramps
caused maybe by a lack of salt.
Must learn to manage
my water,
my fuel,
my electrolytes,
my mind,
and dreading the science of the damn thing.
Experimenting with different ratios of running and walking:
15 minutes running/5 minutes walking, 10/5, 5/5,
and sticking to the plan of not allowing myself to walk
more than five minutes at a time,
of not falling into the dirge,
the death march.
When it hurts,
trying to think about staying upright
relaxing my body
controlling my breath,
my form...
Trying to avoid thinking about how tired
I will be running ten times this distance
or how much that effort will cost in pain.
Gently instructing my mind
to know
that it will get done
and to go.
sunny and bright and hot.
The woods are filled with horseflies
which change the tone of this outing
from recreational to spiritual trial.
Becoming a blood offering and
watching them dizzily orbiting my head
growing in numbers, finally biting
right between my shoulder blades
just beyond my reach.
They learn,
they adapt,
and so must I.
So I take to the road,
and now it's oblivious cars threatening
and hot pavement beating the soles
of my feet.
But on this trip I come upon a brown snake on a dirt road
close to a Great Blue Heron's long feather and a
a smallish box turtle, withdrawn, except for its watching head,
a dead porcupine, perfectly intact, lying on its side as if only asleep.
I run as softly as I can.
There are many empty pint
and half-pint peppermint schnapps bottles
strewn along the roadside
mile after mile.
Someone in this town has a serious problem.
Imagining him drinking,
bottle kept low in his lap,
driving slowly, searching,
endless night.
My problem, however, is a 100 mile race
with a start and a finish and the question
are you enough?
Out of water now,
stopping to drink from a cemetery spigot,
and no one there takes offense.
My feet hurt already at only three hours in
and my calf muscles twinge and ripple with activity
that I've come to understand as pre-cramps
caused maybe by a lack of salt.
Must learn to manage
my water,
my fuel,
my electrolytes,
my mind,
and dreading the science of the damn thing.
Experimenting with different ratios of running and walking:
15 minutes running/5 minutes walking, 10/5, 5/5,
and sticking to the plan of not allowing myself to walk
more than five minutes at a time,
of not falling into the dirge,
the death march.
When it hurts,
trying to think about staying upright
relaxing my body
controlling my breath,
my form...
Trying to avoid thinking about how tired
I will be running ten times this distance
or how much that effort will cost in pain.
Gently instructing my mind
to know
that it will get done
and to go.
I was fascinated by the physicality of this and also fascinated by the total absence of any attempt to explain why you are driven to do this. Those two aspects made this both intimate and private at the same time. Also, I like the poetic format used with a narrative voice.
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