Friday, October 8, 2010

You have to keep the end in sight if you expect to reach it

While completing longer training runs in preparation for my upcoming races, I've started reflecting on the journey itself in the process of getting to the end of something. As with most activities in life, each run has a starting point, the middle (some much longer than others!) and the glorious finish line which marks the completion of the event. Be it merely practice or an organized race, the object is to aim for a targeted area that signals the end of the run. Along the way it can be exhausting, long, and possibly lonely, but there is always such satisfaction and relief to finally have the end in sight, knowing you’re almost complete. Even if you can’t see exactly where you’re aiming for, hope lies in the knowledge that it must end somewhere if you keep pushing forward. This is, of course, provided you don't quit in the middle.

Not knowing how long it will take to get there, or where the end even is, can make you doubt yourself and question your ability to continue on. Other times it's just easier to stop and walk, but then it's so difficult to start running again that the bursts of trying to catch up by going faster get shorter and farther apart; this makes the inevitable end of the trek so much longer to find. An alternative is to keep your head down and not look up, to plod forward through the motions despite the discouragement of everything weighing you down because eventually you will still reach the finish line, but this isn't much better. I've done it myself, for countless miles and endless days. There was a long period of time where I didn't have the energy to look up on the road of life, as each day blended listlessly into the next with no concept of time or accomplishment. There’s nothing like taking the joy out of the journey to make it feel like it will drag on forever. Some of the pressures I felt were due to family life and work, inevitable issues that almost everyone faces at some point in their lives. Not having an effective way to channel this made it easier to keep looking down as I had no idea when or if it would ever improve, and not knowing where I was going made it too easy to aimlessly push ahead, which didn’t necessarily mean forward progress. I still struggle with this today, but not nearly to the same degree. Every day I am stronger, and much more willing to find the courage to keep my head up.  The "middle" is something I am learning to enjoy, not something I must simply endure, as I forge ahead.

I have an uncommon advantage this weekend as I take on the Spokane half marathon looking to set a new personal record (PR): this is a course I’ve seen before. I know what to expect this time. The weather will be different of course (forecasted to be warmer than the sub-20’s last year!), not to mention the prized shirt earned by finishers. Even if it was a new race for me, as Seattle and Phoenix will soon be, my training has prepared me for this journey. Weekly practices have built up my speed and endurance, a little at a time; they’ve helped guide me on new paths and find within me the strength to take on new challenges of all kinds along the way. It’s always the middle of something, so keep your head up, look down the road, and don’t quit. Out there somewhere is the finish line, and it’s a beautiful sight to behold.