emptiness

13 miles . . .

saturday morning

i was supposed to run 19 this morning. i even made the batter the night before with my daughter for some experimental buckwheat pancakes as a recovery breakfast. gracie woke up later than normal so i decided to split up the run. i wish i would have had more time. i felt strong, powerful, fast and the day was beautiful. a cold front has moved back in pushing the rain out. perfect conditions. even though my fingers got a little bit cold.

6 miles . . .

saturday night

after church we stumble our way home for complete child meltdown taking a grande total of 45 minutes to get all the kids tucked away in their beds (except for baby gracie who had to eat). then i go to the bathroom. at this point it is around 9:30 and i DO NOT want to run. not one mile. not the planned 6 miles. what i do want to do is curl up in my bed and sleep. somehow i push all that out and get on my clothes. the first couple of miles was a struggle both in effort and pace. but suddenly everything became focused and i had to fight to stay at my easy pace.

i make it home, eat some cereal, and going to bed remembering how much i hate night running but with a smile on my face for pushing through this run.

10 miles . . .

sunday morning

on a barren stretch of road, in darkness with the occasional car driving by or blinking street light, i hear a low grumble and growl like a hound from the underworld. i jump, fortunately no one is there to bear witness.

everything is hard about this run. hard to see my footing, hard to keep pace, hard to push, every stride, every step. never enter my zone. the morning came to soon. the run is too long. last night's run seemed like just minutes ago. everything is sore, everything hurts. days like these make you doubt your goals, your dreams, your ambitions, your speed, your talent, your everything.

but the run is over. i did it. and i never have to run it again.

standing in the lobby of the church later that morning sipping espresso, i'm talking with a fitness instructor about exercise, like we often do. this is when i speak my horrific realization.

it's never going to get easier.

i'll have my up days and my down days, but as i continue to push my effort, i will always be pushing my body to a greater level of fitness. a marathon pace will always feel like a marathon pace. my tempo days will always feel like they do now. these 10 mile runs will come again.

this is the emptiness, the futility that i now feel.