Such are the things that I've thought while running

There was a time when I would cause the Earth to spin with my stride. But before that I used to tell myself it was just better to quit. I used to tell myself I couldn't do it, I used to tell myself I was too fat. That I was too slow. Look at that real runner, he thinks I'm a joke, I'm not that, I can't be that. The world would stop to look at me, as I trudged slowly down the Kelly Drive bike path, and they would lear in disapproval.

I guess I used to talk myself down. It was the worst when I used to reach the end of my run. I would be worried I'd have to stop running and walk. So, as a way to keep going, I would conjure up the big... mean.... world and tell myself to just give up. That the world wanted me to just give up. Oh that critical subconscious. That negative voice in my head. In retrospect it was so counterproductive. And looking back I feel like it rotted me, I feel like it polluted my passion. Not only did I have to contend with the very real obstacles in running, such as not knowing anything about the sport, especially shoes, hydration, pacing, etc... I had to fight with myself just to get out there and run. Just to get out on the path.

I don't really remember when it started, but at some point, I made a conscious effort to think more positively. I would imagine myself running down Kelly Drive with all of the world's inhabitants on either side of the path cheering me on. And everyone I ever knew was there -- my friends and family were encouraging me and screaming that they knew I could do it and that they were proud of me. And every man who ever wished me ill glared at me in astonished respect as every step that I took turned out to be one step I didn't know I had. Whether it was light or dark out, I always ran towards a bright rising orange sun, like it was out of a Disney movie.

Kelly Drive it's an out and back you see, if you run out 3, you HAVE to run back 3(Ha! I remember I used to think six miles was far! HA again!). To me, having to walk was failure. The world would fall on me when my gait would transition from jog to walk. "We knew you couldn't do it", and to hear the real runners come up from behind me was just a continuous death. They would flash past me, dodging me with hideous indignity, "how dare you make us move for you". You could see my shame from ten miles high; my shoulders were hunched; my head was down, every runner was disgusted that they even had to make an effort to pass by me on the left.

So in those last miles when I really needed to feel a purpose, I would imagine that every foot fall would push the whole of the earth around in it's rotation. Defying all of physics, I was the sole cause of the earth's spin, from my waist through my hips, to my thighs straight down, and right into my toes. I was the push that caused the tides; the rising and setting sun, that caused entire flocks of birds to startle and take flight from the ground. And in retrospect, big surprise, it was much better than the negative energy I would bring to myself from before. That was when I got faster than my wife. And the natural order was restored.

I've stopped doing that by now, seems almost childish looking back. It's like being a helpless adolescent trying to big in an even bigger world. And on top of that, I was patient. I'm proud of myself for that. I've always been good in math, and in math you build on your yesterdays. And so I built on a thousand running yesterdays. Just to be faster now. I'm a far more confident runner today. I've stopped taking the effort to visualize happy thoughts. After a while such thing just came to me.

So after I stopped putting on a show for all the world's inhabitants, I would run for just one man. It was the vision of the person I wanted to be. He was the me that I wanted to be. The ME with washboard abs. The me who knows all the words to say. The me without any of my life's mistakes. He had the peace of mind that had always eluded me. And he would run a couple yards in front of me, damn did he make it look easy, damn was his stride graceful. And he would look back at me and say "Come on now Jim, just this little further..... I know the wa..., c'mon now". And he was right in front of me. He was so close I could dare to touche him, barely inches from touching him.

And so that would go on for a few months, and then one day I was running in early June on my parent's treadmill; and there was no air conditioning. And boy did that suck. Just 4 miles, that's all I needed, but I couldn't go on. It was just too torturous. So I went looking to space out, I just needed a distraction, anything to bare it longer. And so I went looking to find that happy place; that place where I could see the person I wanted to be and run towards him, and those four miles would just melt way. But I couldn't find him, he just wasn't working. It was too forced, too corny, I mean this isn't the Cat In the Hat, this isn't the Giving Tree. I'm a thirty two year old man, and these are flights of fancy, these are indulgences to ease a weak mink. And so I couldn't find him. But what I found then, is what I have now. Fire. I found the man I wanted to be wasn't' outside, he was in me. And he was the strength to carry on, he was the endure. It's awesome and a shame at the same time, because I still still don't have those washboard abs.

I don't think about anything now. I don't have to. If I run with with my wife, we banter about the week's events. If I run alone, an ipod provides me a raucous soundtrack. All I do now is fall into the moment. 10 miles, 15 miles, next week is 17 miles. The marathon is assured. And if you've passed on the Drive, you've earned it. And it has only so occurred because I've let you. Broken ankle, healed ankle. There is no ankle. There is only left right, left right. I don't know if it's running Nirvana, because I don't know if there's anything that comes next, but I know I carry this feeling with me into the world outside of running. I carry it into the weekday mornings, onto the rides on the Market-Frankford El, into my wasted minutes in the board room.

I don't if I'll ever know peace outside of running, but I'll know it if I see it; because of running.

My name is Jim and my wife and I are training for our first marathon. Here's all my training posts to date.