I always feel super lame when people ask me what I'm up to these days. Because there's really not much to report to people I talk to frequently and already know about my internship*. Basically all I do besides work is run. I am currently running a lot. In fact, on Fridays I run for hours. Multiple hours. I'm up to 3 hours and 40 minutes. In two weeks I will run for somewhere around 4.5 hours. (Okay, if I'm honest I'm hoping it's less than that but I decided I wasn't going to make a real time goal so I'm pretending I won't be disappointed if it takes that long.) Yes, I am running a marathon. The Teton Dam Marathon. (I like to refer to it as "that Dam marathon" when I'm talking about it out loud because it makes me giggle. I am a grown-up.) Miles 19-22 are uphill. So...that'll be fun. I'm starting to get nervous. That's a really long run. You know? And I'll never run that far before the actual thing. So how do I know I can do it? Well, actually, I know I can do it. It's not the running that's the hard part--it's when you stop.
And that's kind of metaphorical, right? Sometimes I kind of wax philosophical after running. (Only after, never during, because during I can only think thoughts like, "Ow ow ow ow ow OWWWW!" and "I am going to die right here." and "Oh my gosh, I can't seriously have that much further to run!" and "Crap--is that dog chasing me?!") So after running one day, contemplating how it's only hard when you stop running, I thought about how it's like life. Life's not hard while you're living it. It's when you let yourself stop that it gets hard. Or something.
I was also thinking about how much discipline running takes. You have to drag yourself out of bed (or in my current case of air-mattressness, roll yourself out of bed) when you'd rather sleep in. You have to keep taking step after step when you just want to stop. You have to ignore pain and exhaustion when you just want to quit. You have to get off the couch when you just want to sit on your butt and watch TV. You have to swallow hard and breathe when you just want to throw up.
It's really hard. It's not always fun. Sometimes I have to miss out on Saturday morning activities or late-night fun because I have to get up and run. But it's worth it, and not just because it allows me to eat lots of dessert and carbs and makes my legs really strong and muscular and impresses people. I know I can do things that are hard or boring or not enjoyable. After you've run 22 miles (my current longest run), it's hard to feel daunted by...almost anything. And running keeps my head clear. After you've run 22 miles, it's hard to feel angry or sad or anything other than really tired and in a lot of physical pain. It also helps me sit still. If I don't run in the morning, I have trouble sitting still all day. My legs get jumpy and I can't focus as well.
So. The conclusion? I don't always enjoy running. But I'm sort of hooked now. And I figure if I'm going to get addicted to something, an activity that burns incredible calories, builds muscle, keeps me tough, and calms me down is probably a good thing to pick.
*For those who don't know but do care: I am interning at the prosecutor's office in Idaho Falls and I love love love it. I was unsure about law school, really--actually, that's a lie; I was sure I sort of hated it--but my internship is great. My main project is a memo on a petition for post-conviction relief. This guy confessed to participating in a rape and murder and has been in prison for the last 16 years and is now moving to get out of prison on the grounds that his confession was invalid because he was in custody but not given his Miranda warnings. My job is to research case law and figure out whether he really was in custody. I'm close to being done and I'm pretty sure the judge will rule in our favor, meaning the defendant will stay in prison.
