I realized this morning over my eggs and toast that I have designed for myself and entered into a crucible of sorts, and didn’t realize it until I was nearly halfway through this morning’s run (2.66 miles of the 3.64 planned distance).
I’ve scheduled my hardest week of the season thus far—20 miles, chump change to you seasoned vets—for this week partly to if I can actually stick to the schedule for a change. Another part for the schedule is to simply see what will happen on the other side.
I know that discipline imposed upon an undisciplined form will create a new form. Imagine a Jell-O mold or military boot camp. I also know that discipline for the sake of discipline is meaningless. What I’m curious to see is whether or not on the other side of this mini-crucible I’ve set up for myself something is forged out of the formless mass that is entering. Will there be a breakthrough moment? Will this prisoner come to love his captive? Will I bound out of bed at 5:00am and bounce off for a run? Is anyone sick enough to do that?
I doubt 20 miles is enough to forge a love for running, but I beginning to understand that in order to reconnect with my primal roots, I’m going to need to more than just go through the motions. “I don’t wanna” trumps going through the motions, every time.
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