Just as I was feeling a touch of sadness at the end of what has been an epic summer of exciting, new endeavors, I find myself counting down to my next, potentially painful path of possible, even probable pernicious physical punishment. What gleeful event do I elude to? Race the Reaper. A 6 mile trail run with over 20 obstacles of varying difficulty and discomfort. And to add to potential indignity, I am running the course with a 24 year old firefighter who has been actively training and competing in obstacle races all year. Yes, I am doomed.
In addition, thinking I had two weeks to at least practice a few things like rope climbs, monkey bars, and wall climbing, I was rather shocked to find that I don't have two weeks, I have six days. SIX DAYS. Again, I must ask myself, "WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?" And then I calm myself, remind myself, that what I was really thinking is that this is going to be an epic finale to what has been an eye opening summer for me. Another notch in my belt. A new sport, discipline, strength. True, I may fail. But I will have tried my damnedest to keep up with my 24 year old buddy. I will flog myself to great heights to prove myself to Me. As I ran my trail run saturday, my feet getting beat to all hell, my muscles screaming at me, I had to grin at the thought that I knew exactly what I was doing. It is only pain. It is only for a few hours. I know I can push myself beyond anything I might have imagined just a year ago, even six months ago. And I do it just for me, no one else. Just Me.
Isn't that the point of the exercise? That your body is not the boss of you. Pain is not the boss of you. Your will drives you forward and the result that is realized is conjured by your will alone. Powerful magic there. Nenikēkamen!
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