What this blog could have been...

When I began tossing around ideas in my head for potential blog subjects that would lead to a devoted Internet falling and guaranteed worldwide stardom, fame and fortune, I considered making it a running blog.

Now when I say running blog, I don't mean one of the real running blogs, where people outline training regimens, shoe choices, ideal diets and, occasionally, wax poetic about the bond that all runners share or how soothing it is for your soul. (I do enjoy the last two types of pieces a good deal, but don't feel like I'm quite qualified to write them or even really participate in said bond as a casual runner who only picked up the activity about a year ago and is still frequently certain that jogging is, in fact, the worst. That being said, this article makes me feel good about myself and running and says everything I'd want to say, if I were to write that type of blog: http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/17-things-running-teaches-you-about-life/.)

No, I planned to use my infrequent runs as a Bridget Jones-esque framing device and have each entry focus on my various musings on the course of these runs.

Obviously, that fell through. First off, I'm not really running that often these days, usually just a long run on Sunday with Barrett and a few trips to the gym during the week. We're training for a Tough Mudder in November, so I know I need to up my game, but...laziness. Still, Wednesdays are going to become my new secondary running day and I plan to do about four miles this evening. Fingers crossed.

Today's adventure, though, will recount Monday's run - Sunday's was relocated due to me having to work that godawful night cops shift. When being lazy about a run in late April, I suggested  that we do six miles in April, seven in May, eight in June, etc. Although at the time it allowed me to avoid a seven-mile run in late April, it presented me the challenge of running eight miles two days ago, having not run more than four in several weeks (the previous week's Sunday run was replaced by lots and lots of hiking).

About a mile and a half into Monday's run, I literally almost started crying. Some of the elderly folk taking advantage of the trail's relative low occupancy on a casual Monday morning were probably taken aback by my whimpering. The problem, you see, was that I was pretty sure I just couldn't do it anymore. I kept telling myself that I'd run seven miles plenty of times before, and that the time we ran six miles in early April for our 10K I'd trained a hell of lot less than I had up to this point.

And yet, that first mile and a half felt like abject torture. That's the weird thing about running, I think, although it's not unique to that activity - some days you have good days, and sometimes you just don't. (To quote a favorite movie of my father's, "Sometimes the magic works, and sometimes it doesn't." Ten points if you can name the film.)

I remember times in my softball-playing days where my fastball just wouldn't pop, my curve wouldn't curve or my rise didn't feel like rising. Demoralized, I'd go home certain I'd never win another game, only to pitch the game of my life the next day.

The important thing to remember in those moments, I suppose, is to power through. I kept going, as much as I really, really, really wanted to stop, and eventually was able to push the defeatist attitude out of my brain. It popped back up around two and a half, three and a half, at at the four-mile break, where I literally collapsed on the ground because the benches were all covered in rain.

I suppose I didn't quite conquer all though, as Barrett was trying to break in some new boots that messed up his ankle so we went with a more casual three-mile walk on the return trip. I guess I'll have to wait until next week to see if I can actually run eight miles. Maybe once I get there I'll experience the illusive runners' high and be able to run forever.

It's unlikely.


p.s. This is a nice article, that you should all read, if you care about happiness, or baseball, or love, or just good writing. http://joeposnanski.blogspot.com/2013/06/fifteen-years.html