so i guess i was well rested after my longish run last thursday, and i was beginning to feel bad that i hadn't run in three whole days. so at the end of the day, it was still guilt that got me out on the pavement. that can't be a healthy motivational technique, but at this point, i'll resort to anything.
it was indeed damn cold as i got to the jogging path. i was just in my tshirt and shorts, and as usual got some strange looks from people in their big fluffy down jackets. i also knew i'd get warm in due course, but unfortunately that knowledge doesn't in itself make me warm.
so off i went. i wanted to run fast to warm up. but the problem is, if i run too fast, i tire and will pay for it near the end of my run. and also there's the chance i'd pull something as the muscles take time to warm up. so i tried to keep some sort of happy balance, all the while swearing to no one in particular. i remember reading that swearing actually improves our pain tolerance. i always knew that, but it was gratifying to know it had scientific backing. but swearing doesn't make me warm either.
about fifteen twenty minutes in, finally, i could think of something other than "it's fucking cold". there are so many things of late i wasn't quite sure where to even start. but first, i wanted to consider why i had become a perfectionist of sorts. i have always been proud that i am pretty relaxed about things, and perfectionists were strange unhappy people. but a minor glitch on something i had worked on for a while was majorly disturbing me. finally, i decided, it was a miracle of technology i even got it done, and i was being a bit of an ungrateful sonuvabitch to the world. and i felt a little better.
mid-run, finally, i was feeling nice. it astonishes me every single time why there are nice feelings associated with pavement pounding. but it was really a very nice feeling. the tshirt-piercing cold had morphed into a constant fullbody aircon cooling me to the perfect temperature. surprisingly, no knee pain, yet. and things just seemed smooth, almost effortless, as the sky slowly darkened.
of course, these conditions never last very long. my knee started to complain, but fortunately, it was more a whine than a scream. because i slowed down a little, i was feeling cold again. i began to wonder what i could have possibly enjoyed about this, even though it was only several minutes ago, and circumstances hadn't changed at all.
at the same time, i marveled once again how running really does remind me of the cycles of life. i remind myself how i hate people who tell me life is like everything, from chocolates to golf, but i suppose it's because it really means something to them. running is that thing to me. it just somehow reflects my view of life better than golf or chocolates. and i don't even like running. or maybe it's because i don't like running.
a lot of things in my life seem to follow this pattern. it takes me forever to decide to do one thing. then the start is always awful, everything is a confused jumbo of pain, and i question my own sanity. mid-way, for some brief moments, i think it's actually pretty good. 3/4 of the way, it sucks again. after i finish, i'm pretty glad. if i don't finish the way i wanted to, well, i guess i'll have to do better next time. that's where the analogy diverges, because there aren't too many second chances in real life.
anyhow, i did manage to run the 14km i aimed for, without great discomfort, so that much was ok.
so i took a long sip of water, looked out at this city with its sea of lights, each with someone in them running their own tough races, and went home.
