Hurt

These workouts have been good for me, not just physically, but as a chance for reflection and realization.

It was not possible for me to get my fourth workout in last week because I inadvertantly assumed that I would have a free minute away from kids during the weekend. I don't know why I thought I'd be able to do it, because I know full well the demands of my husband's job this time of year. It is right about now that I miss the convenience of a treadmill in the house.

So, I learned the valuable lesson that my workouts are going to have to happen during the weekdays, and most definitely around my husband's schedule. I literally ran away from my kids and my husband when he met us at a park at the end of his workday on Monday. I was so excited for the break that I managed to enjoy each and every step of the long run.

When I looked at the schedule for Tuesday, I realized that if I was going to get in a long run I was going to have to do it before anyone in my family was awake. That means leaving the house by 6:30 in the morning. I was good until about 15-minutes into the run, and then I remembered why I space out workouts to be further apart than twelve hours!

I finished just fine, but along the way I had a revelation of sorts. While I was running, a Johnny Cash remix came up on my ipod. I don't know if I had heard it before, but if I had, I had never really paid attention to the lyrics. It starts, "I hurt myself today to see if I still feel." It is a morbid and depressing song, but the first line stuck with me. Why in the world am I subjecting myself to this pain? I realized that at this point in my life it really is just to see if I still feel. I'll never compete at the level I have competed before, but I am still drawn to challenges, and I suspect I always will be.

The summer workouts in college were for the sole purpose of surviving preseason in one piece and being in shape enough for a demanding season. I wish that I knew then what I know now. Life is meant to be felt and rigorous workouts are no exception. I wish that I had looked at my time playing as an opportunity instead of an obligation. I wonder how that might have changed things.