05.05.09
Choices
Tonight was an interesting one. As 10pm rolled around I began to yawn and realized if I didn’t go running now it wasn’t going to happen tonight. I got up, dressed in my running attire, told Dan not to lock the door and embarked on what would prove to be one of the more challenging runs I’ve faced.
Things started off well. I listen to the Couch to 5k podcasts and use them to follow the running program outlined at this site. I pulled up the podcast and walked briskly trying to loosen up, and perhaps wake up as well. I felt good and decided to run what I considered a medium intensity route near my apartment. As I progressed and began my first running interval, the cool night wind rushing over my face and through my hair, I realized that yesterday I had made one very awful choice.
You see, Dan, John, Danny, and I have all been playing racquetball every Sunday and Wednesday night. This is great fun and extremely good exercise. I have enjoyed the camaraderie and variety it adds to my week in many ways. Best of all, it forces me to use muscles that are not used during other exercises. This has led to a lot of mild leg soreness to which I am not accustomed, though I relish it to a certain extent. It is in this that the awful choice was made. Due to our tight schedule and my lack of attention I did not stretch fully before playing, and I did not stretch at all afterward.
I am not sure about other seasoned runners, but this is something I know to be true of myself. With stretches before and after and warm-up and cooldown walks I rarely, if ever, have leg pain during or after running (granted I currently run small distances, 2-3 miles). However, due to my decision (or lack thereof) last night to avoid stretching I endured very agonizing tightness and calf pain during my run, as well as some pain in my knees.
Calf pain turns what is one of my more enjoyable forms of exercise into an absolute chore. I choose to run; if it hurts, I either give up or I run with pain. After the first interval was done I told myself giving up because of a little leg pain wasn’t an option, and the calf pain would likely work itself out. The second interval came and went, only this time I was running uphill (and would be for the next four intervals). Nothing changed. Each and every step started to hurt. Even walks between intervals became painful.
And so it came to another choice. No one was making me run, and obviously enduring pain is not enjoyable. I could quit if I wanted; no one would fault me. It was then I recalled something my mother once talked to me about. On a ride across town we talked about achieving a bad grade (to which I said was absolutely unacceptable) and she replied that it was acceptable, and even likely over the course of an academic career. No one is perfect and neither are their grades. But, as she aptly pointed out, I was my harshest critic. No one is going to reprimand me in any way that is more meaningful then the choices and actions I can and will inflict upon myself to solve certain problems and achieve certain results.
My mind began to wander back to my training days for Army ROTC and the emotional hardening I have sustained over the past several years. I remembered how hard I pushed when I was in ROTC. I remembered that with each step, and the pain that came with it, I was one step closer to a glorious victory walk home (as opposed to a quiet, self-loathing walk of defeat). I remembered how, when pushing, physical pain was really just an inconvenience and nothing more. My pace quickened. My strides grew longer. Each new step brought pain, but I only pushed more. Pain can be overcome. It can be conquered. I continued to run; I stopped counting the intervals. Built up angst was combined with explosive determination as I let my mind analyze more pressing issues then the pain I was experiencing in my in my calf. My mind became unaware of the pain and the duration of the run, instead embarking on its own interesting adventure into the metaphysical realm.
The choice to not only continue, but to continue with a redoubled effort is a theme of my life. Constantly I have believed there is nothing I can’t do; if I fail I must merely try harder. Bringing that mentality to things is almost always helpful (although it can certainly be a hindrance sometimes). My progress is not always visible to others, nor is it visible in my academics currently. However, I am amazed with the progress I have made in recent months. And it is that amazement that I value so highly, because such praise does not come easy.
As I walked back home after the run, completing the entire medium intensity circuit despite the pain, I was overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment. As I often do on, I thought back to a mere year or two ago. I always feel like I was just a kid back then. If only I knew then what I know now. Every year my ambition grows with my determination, my resolution is constantly refined and my goals become absolute. I have stopped dreaming and worrying about independent events, but have instead assembled the larger picture into a future I enjoy thinking about and a life I enjoy living.
I realized this was my zen; this was my nirvana. For a brief time, I was at peace. In that moment I was invincible. The world was mine for the taking; nothing was unachievable. The ambition was rivaled only by content and happiness. I am happy with where I am and who I am. Things aren’t perfect, but the things I want answers to are answered. Ambiguities have been resolved and the things I wanted plans for have been planned. The questions that remain are simple ones that my mind can toy with or ignore. I am comfortable with these unanswered questions, and interested in watching some of them evolve.
The choices we make are not always easy or correct, but determination and perseverance will always lead to progress in one way or another. Sometimes, you just need to go for it.
What a ride this life is.