There’s nothing like a 26.2 mile race that forces you to contemplate things like surrender and acceptance. If for no other reason than not destroying yourself on race day, you need to come to terms with the commitment necessary to haul your ass those 26.2 miles at a steady (preferably efficient) clip. I’m getting my head around the number of miles I’ll need to run this Summer, the curbing of my shitty-weather partying tendencies, the amount of time bending necessary to accommodate all those hours on the streets and trails. It’s a friggin commitment, that’s for sure.
I’d rather figure it out now though than 2 or even 4 months before the race. It’s just under 5 months until October 10th, and although the running has begun in 3-4 mile intervals, it’s nowhere near where I thought I’d be after completing my first half marathon last Fall. It still feels foreign to me that I ran that distance, especially in light of all the travel, my inconsistent regimen, etc. The commitment is supposed to expand as the distance increases. It’s kind of.. LAW. There’s just no way around The Work, and my life improves immeasurably in areas where I realize this is the case, surrender to it, accept it, and stop all the whining and procrastination.
Everyone is on their own continuum of how far they’ve come, and how far they’re willing to go. Running is only one (small) measurement, and to tell you the truth, I honestly don’t care that much about the distance or pace in terms of numbers. I remember feeling pretty elated to be done that day, and pleasantly surprised that I made it in under 2 hours, but the victory was in the hundreds of shorter runs that prepared me. I’ve been trying to think about songwriting and sales the same way. There is no happy ending to an unhappy journey, or some big pay off for years spent toiling in anguish. There just isn’t. A good tune won’t erupt out of a miserable obligation to write. You write when and because you have an innate need to express who you are. You sell out of your need to service other people, to provide solutions to their business problems.
So in my panic to not miss the window again this year, I registered for the Chicago Marathon. Not the half marathon either, the full on big Daddy marathon. I didn’t know at the time that the Spring would challenge me in all sorts of new ways, or that I’d feel so alienated from completing 6 miles, let alone 13 or 26. But that older, wiser mofo who steers my bigger picture from inside this body knew that I needed to set the commitment into motion: When we set a firm deadline to grow into some way bigger shoes, we generally show up prepared. It’s less than 5 months out and what it’s really screaming to me is “are you ready to take your year back?”
Am I ready to surrender to the struggles in the minutiae and let it blow through?
Am I ready to accept any self-imposed limitations and reinvent a more capable person to handle the demands of this commitment?
Am I finally letting everything that I’ve started complete itself?
Am I excited that I had the balls to take on so many things that feel personally unwieldy, slightly insane, and just BIG?
Bottom line:
Would I have entertained the thought if I wasn’t ready to improve?
The answer to all of these is a definitive absofugginlutely. It’s my favorite answer to life’s questions. Good morning streets, good morning trails. Stretch me out and remind me why I love my time spent with you so much. You make me a more loving, capable, and certainly more healthy mofo.
And so it begins, pitter-patter.
