The slow run

Those times are now. I’m looking outside; it rained during the night. It’s cloudy and chilly, just like the inside of me. My mind can only focus on how to keep me distracted long enough to forget about my plan to train today. It’s kind of working. I get caught up in daily things, in other important things I have to do today, and thoughts keep flashing through my mind like a high-speed train passing through an abandoned railroad station. If you want it to be easy, you have to act dumb. Not thinking but just doing gets you out of the building way faster than overthinking.

Should I reprioritize and postpone my run for another day? Should I wear a warmer jacket or a raincoat? Should I eat? Should I run in that place or another? This death spiral gets to me, and I stop. I take a random shirt and shorts, get dressed, tie my running shoes and go out. It’s done. I’m out and running.

This was one of my long runs for the marathon I’m participating in, in just 12 days. Maybe it mattered that it was a longer run, maybe it was the weather, maybe it was my mood. But my hack of signing up for a race almost didn’t work, but it eventually did. Would I have gone out to run if I didn’t have the race? I don’t know, but I do know that I really enjoyed my run. It was beautiful. The weather wasn’t, but the ducks on the lake didn’t care, and the falling leaves didn’t care. Nature didn’t care about my struggles. Things were just moving along as they had over and over again. Why was I special? Because I can think and overthink.