Delirium

It's hard to explain to people who have never worked out for hours at a time how strange one's mind can become over the course of a long run.  Yesterday, for instance, my 17.8-mile run was almost three and a half hours long--including my pit stop in Whole Foods (who, by the way, has the best public restrooms ever).  

I was surprised at how long it took my body to start hurting:  first, my feet around mile 10, then my knees at 12, tight arms/shoulders at 13, and finally, my lower back ache at around 15.  And at one point, I remember asking myself why I was doing it.  Not because I felt the need to stop per se, but with 3+ hours to myself to think, in pouring rain no less, it starts to seem like a slightly silly endeavor.

There is a point in some (many?) long runs when I start to get delirious.  When the only reason I'm running is because I'm running.  Logic starts to lose meaning, and my mind gets loopy while my body's on autopilot.  To be clear, this is not the kind of delirium people speak of when talking about heat stroke or severe overexertion.  I understand that that's a serious medical condition, often characterized by confusion, along with a variety of other external symptoms.  That's more of an I-think-that-puddle-is-laughing-at-me-and-I'm-not-gonna-stand-for-it situation, whereas this is more like an I've-been-awake-for-30-hours-and-don't-you-think-birds'-feet-are-strange situation.  If that makes any sense.

In my long run delirium, thoughts seem to relate to each other in strange, nonlinear ways, and what's more, my emotions are all right at the surface.  Case in point:  At around mile 13 yesterday, I flipped off a driver who cut me off and proceeded to roll her eyes at me for her own inability to stop at a stop sign, but two minutes later I giggled aloud uncontrollably at a song on my playlist that I've heard literally hundreds of times before.  Minor annoyances, like struggling to retie my shoelaces to the exact, desired tautness, seem catastrophic and insurmountable.  And insignificant pleasures, like loosening my shoulders with an impromptu whole body shimmy, bring smiles so big, I feel like the Grinch "whose small heart grew three sizes" and like the corners of my mouth might bust right through the sides of my face.

It is these such experiences that lead me to wonder:  what does this delirium look like on marathon day?  With the added adrenaline, extra pressure, heightened excitement, additional 25,000 runners, supplemental 100,000 spectators?  Well, fuck if I know.  I'm exhausted just thinking about it but oh-so-curious.  

With only eight weeks left, I guess I'll find out soon.  Only eight weeks, ha, that's a good one.