New Stuff

The first thing I notice is the familiar. Interestingly, it occurs to me that this might be due to my experience in watching and waiting for the anticipated - instead of running with a clean plate, the half-marathon empty cup. I think: Why wait for the old, the norm, the same. Why not take each step, every mile, all subsequent breaths as miracles unto themselves? Why feel any pain before it knocks? Why fear what might never happen? Why drag the dark cloud of the unknown across this blue sunny sky?

Still, I wait. If I go hard enough and long enough, it will eventually show up like a gate crasher, seeking free admittance to the show. And as chief of security it is my job to allow entry to those with a ticket and deny those without. The concert is about time and effort. I want to run fast today for 13 miles, to run just one minute faster than I ran last year on this same course. I am a year older. I should be slowing down, losing range of motion and core strength. I should be watching football on TV or golfing. Yet here I am at mile 5, already purging the rhythmic exhales that signify output, on pace to get that minute back. Prove to myself that it doesn't have to be the way it always has been, it doesn't have to be about pain and suffering and guts and courage. It can just as easily be about grace, and efficiency, and presence and joy. I can run just as fast happy as I can fearful. Varriations on a theme by gratitude.

With the beauty being that there is no additional charge for testing this theory. We tweak the training, re tweak the structure, we tweak the combinations of distance, speed, intensity and amplitude. We up our games. Try new stuff, looking to the future for the secrets of the past. How does THIS affect THAT?

By mile10 the rain, wind and cold has rendered my feet to feeling like popsicles. I am numbly aware of my connection to the course, the road, running past hillside mansions and over a million gold maple leaves. If I am going to achieve my primary objective today this last 5K is going to be interesting. I hit the gas and am a touch surprised by the quick response, there remains some octane in the tank. Use it, I hear. Leave it here, you can't take it with you. Burn this clean energy fast and hot.

You can have this if you are willing to pay the price. Down the final hill, unhinged, toes jammed against toe box, hips afire. Sidewinds at gale force, sideway rain pelting my ears, heart in the drum corps. One mile to go, an uphill and out. There isn't much left but everything. You can do it NOW, or never have another chance. Faster. Harder. Best. Now.

And then over. Done. Mission accomplished. The cool-down leaves some residual stiffness, but no injury or major damage. Heart rate is already back to acceptable range. Wow, that was fun, what a great experience. All those thoughts, the moments. Responding to the circumstances. The people, the faces, the sounds, the energy. All the familiar stimuli played out once again.

But it was different this time. It was fresh. New. Thrilling and challenging. Complete. Validating.

Was it the high-intensity taper, all the added spins, the recovery runs, the diet, yoga?

Yes. All of that, but most important it was about running happy.

And I can't wait to get out there again any try some more new stuff.

Pix: It was a wild couple of days. We keep the cup, RG goes to 79 among the fun.