Just Another Day

Got in a great 10K last night. That is four laps around my home track that I know like the hand of my back. Sure my elbow hurts (steps have been taken to address the ergonomic failings of the new workstation) but not enough to keep me from the training schedule focused on the end of summer events. Would have been easy to play the "mouse-elbow" card and take the evening off, much the way I did for 0530 yoga. I can run with an inflamed arm, but downdog with weights is a no-go.

Which made the evening session all the more important. Consistency. Keeping the metabolic fire stoked. Freedom. Last night's lighting conditions in the park were as close to a Hollywood set as you will get. Magic and warm with a slight Northerly. Girls playing soccer and the obligatory poodles walking their masters. A jerk on a cell phone and three kids turning 80 rpm on new bikes, faces lit with the joy of speed.

I try to say hello, or at least acknowledge everyone who passes me, or I pass. There are snobs. There is fear. There is the attempt at isolation, and there is traffic. People show up when it's nice. Not to many distractions way back in January when we ran in the sleet and snow.

Dodging all this like tiptoeing through a minefield, I did my four ovals. Lap one was weak, my legs heavy from a full day of construction. I actually gave thought to cutting the four laps to two. But then I thought about the Ironman run. What a great time and place to practice that a little. Remove negative thoughts, regulate breaths and just keep pushing with as much efficiency as you can muster. Kid. Dog. Car. Rabbit. Duck.

Lap two was better. I was getting warm and the BMGs were rising to the occasion, now taking charge and in sync. I found an arm position that alleviated some of the searing pain caused from the pumping motion and rated the heart/lung combination: Good. Roller blader, two dogs, bike, stroller, Canadian Honker.

Lap three and I am committed and present. It is here and I am now. This is it. You may (or may not) have wimped out of yoga because of the 'hot-wing', and you may (or may not) have put in a less-than-perfect day with saw, hammer and level, and you may (or may not) have failed in any number of other ways (social, video, blog, filial, moral) but right now all that counts is this. This will define your day. It will name you. You are this, make it good. It's my choice. I can back off and cruise. Or I can go for it and see who I am.

Lap four. Pre used to say that it is a matter of guts, who can stand the most pain. He also said that every race is an opportunity to see what the human heart is capable of. Right now I am keenly aware of the pounding of my heart. My lungs are moving oxygenated blood to hungry muscles at a high, but efficient, rate. I am quite sure that I am making those noises that scare small children again. I don't care. There is a mile to go and I am going to finish this thing with all the gas left in this rusty tank. Folks walking up ahead I highly recommend that you GET THE HECK OUTTA THE WAY. A dog barks. Ducks take off. A smart young boy on a new red bike stops to watch the train pass. Two women talking are oblivious. I see a huge slug slowly crossing the path and I extend left stride to avoid, causing (sorry SHR) the possibility of an additional 400 slimy progeny. I am ramping up, getting faster, reeling in the finish line as if it were a feisty barracuda.

And I'm done.

And it's over.

Just another 10K in the park. Right.

And today is just another day.

Pix: At the LA Triathlon last year. Mt. Shasta from rest stop on I-5. Just another race and just another hill. Right.