Three hundred miles. I have run over 300 miles in the past 11 weeks just in preparation for a four mile race. It doesn't seem completely insane until I say it this way, but the miles I've covered have been less about the pain and the suffering the wind and asphalt have tortured me with but more about the essence of the fight and the beauty of the competition I am about to face. My feet have gone the distance, so why does my head still question whether or not I have the capability to finish what I've started? The thing is though, I don't think my body would have been able to cover that distance if my mind wasn't keeping up.
Regardless of who you are, mile one always feels great.You feel like an adrenaline junky floating on a river of excitement that pumps through your veins with each beat of the heart.It doesn't take long to work out the kinks in the legs when you're bounding straight into the fire that is about to break down your head and your heart. But we don't think about that in the moment, for the euphoria that follows the firing of the starting gun outraces the demons that are creeping up from behind getting ready to challenge all intentions of finishing in a way that is worthy of the challenges that you faced in the 300 miles leading up to the race.
The middle half of any race is a completely different story. At that point, the demons have caught up and have hitched a ride for the remainder of the race. Fleeting traces of "why am I doing this" trail closely behind, and finishing at the pace you are pushing seems virtually impossible. You settle into a comfortable pace because you're afraid of the pain that's about to set in. However, what those 300 miles taught isthat not only does the head and body need to be as strong as the heart but that it is. Those mid-race demons that chase you down are inevitable, but when you put all of the hours, effort and heart into what it is that you have spent 300 miles striving for, the body knows that it has the strength to outrun them. It's up to your head and your heart to beat them through the finish.
It's only when you work your hardest for something that the fear of failure comes close to stopping you cold in your tracks. It's a funny thing, failure, for you are the one who deems it as such in the end.It's never truly a failure if you've given everything that your body, mind and heart had to offer, so don't fear the pain that stakes claim because your body can take it and your heart can use it.
The pain that you feel fuels the heart that you have for the race and for the people who ran every last mile alongside you. The heart that you used in order to make it to the battle is worth the feeling of the relief at the end of it, but it isn't over until you cross the finish line and collapse because you know there is nothing left that you could've given.It isn't worth it until you've finished, not for the feeling of just finishing, but for the feeling of going the distance, using the painand knowing that the fear of failure and pain didn't slow your pace.
When you see the finish, you are tired, but you are strong. You are in pain, but you smile and use it because that feeling is what you've worked for and the one that will have you wondering why you questioned the strength of your head and heart in the first place.
