Wednesday, March 26, 2008

The Fine Line Between Self-Love and Self-Hate

For those of you breathlessly awaiting an update on my marathon training: today, upwards of 13 hours after my last measured elevated body temperature, and a full week since I last put Asics to pavement, I set out for a 5.5-mile jaunt under pouring rains, strong winds, and 38 balmy degrees Fahrenheit. It was awesomely stupid and stupidly awesome, but it goes to show that life sometimes forces a choice between forms of self-hatred: the kind where you lie there musing endlessly over how much muscle mass and aerobic capacity you've lost, versus the kind where you do push your flu-stressed body harder than any dumbass would.

The beauty of it is, in the end I got both: days of the former, and this afternoon the latter.

For all that, the run went reasonably well. I found, to my surprise, that I actually had an easier time breathing while I was running, and the lingering congestion returned almost immediately after I stopped. So that was encouraging, though possibly in a 'wow, I just tricked my lungs into bleeding later' kind of way. I felt pretty weak out there, but considering the conditions, internal and external, it could easily have been worse.

I'm done with the crazy goals; I'm down to the merely stupid ones. One way or another, I've got to run myself back into shape. I retain no big ambitions for Boston other than finishing the damn thing feeling as though I belong in a marathon rather than such films as 'When Marathons Kill' and other cautionary athletic training films from which we remember actor Troy McClure.

1 comment:

mikesdak said...

Ah, Troy McClure....Lionel Hutz....News Radio...the square dance caller on the SNL skit Dirty Square Dancing...you left us too soon Phil Hartmann.