Metamorphosis

[Author's note: This experience, and my need to write about it, was what inspired me to launch a blog. This was originally written (and shared with one person) on October 18, 2005. I put it here today to remind myself during this holiday slump that I can and will reach my goals.]

I drug myself to the gym today, more out of habit than anything. On the way there I was already excusing myself from running because in the last week I've had brutal cramps, several migraines, massive allergy attacks and a cold. I deserved not to run. I reasoned that I was a hero for just going to the gym - I needed another rest day after the week I'd had! Walking a hill program would be more than enough. I even brought a book to read while I walked, I was so sure I wasn't running.

Then I started to warm up, and my body over-ruled my mind. Now to be clear, we're talking about my 5th attempt at a 30 minute workout of Run 3/Walk 1 intervals, but for me it's running and it's hard, and my body never wants anything to do with it.

I started my first interval and something amazing happened. I get it now, what the Runners talk about and write about with cult-like fervor. I was soaring... there was no discomfort, no fighting to breath. Just an easy rhythm of feet and breath and arms and my conscious mind floating peacefully outside my body while it ran. For 20 blissful minutes I made it through interval after interval. There was a voice in my head during the walks, urging me on, pushing me to run through them. I had to fight that urge because I know my limitations, but just to want it was worth almost as much as if I’d actually run it all. For the first time there were no burning lungs, no stumbling feet, no staring at the interval countdown like a starving dog at a piece of meat.

Towards the end, after running more than I've ever done before, I felt like I was sliding backwards to nowhere and I feared a crash landing. I was hanging by my fingertips to an ephemeral cliff to keep from slipping back down into myself. Inevitably I landed in familiar territory, with burning lungs and stumbling feet and eyes glued to the last 45... 30... 15 seconds of the interval.

But it's all different now. All the years of believing it wasn't possible for me to run. All the months of fighting my traitorous body and doubting my capacity and measuring progress in 15 second increments. It was worth it. Because today I glimpsed the promised land and it beckoned to me with open arms. As of today, I don't just want to run a marathon someday, I know I'll run one someday. As of today, I think I became a Runner.