Strong

There comes a point every so often during a training regimen when my body says, "Don't worry.  I got this."  It's easy to forget about those moments because they're almost always overshadowed by the millions of other runs during which my body says either:  "Another run?  Ugh, I guess . . ." or, "Sure, I suppose we can try . . ." or just flat out, "Screw you, this sucks."

On yesterday's 18-miler, however, I had the great fortune of cashing in on weeks of hard work with what felt like an easy run.  If you had asked me a year ago, or even a few months ago, if I would have ever characterized an 18-mile run as easy, I would've laughed.  And laughed.  And then maybe passed out from the laughter-induced lack of oxygen.  Nevertheless, it really happened.  It felt so easy, in fact, I was tempted to re-check my route since it seemed like I couldn't have possibly run that far.  Days like yesterday leave me feeling strong (and slightly superhero-y).

What's funny about running, though, is that that "easy" word presents a bit of trouble.  Easy didn't mean that it was without any pain.  There was no surprise as I ran through my classic checklist of aches, greeting each one by one as it appeared:  knees at 10 miles, hips at 12, ankles at 13, lower back at 15.  Hey there, howdy, nice to see you again!  But it was easy in that I felt like I could just keep going.  What I'm coming to understand with these longer distances is that "easy" for me means not that I'm not hurting but that I can sustain my level of discomfort.  That I can take it and even have enough balls to ask for more.