The Long Run

The phrase itself - "the long run" - is uttered daily by thousands, nay, TRILLIONS of human beings inhabiting our fair Earth and a small quark on the outer reaches of the Milky Way Galaxy (please note: Most things typed in this blog are pulled from the galaxy known as "My Ass").

(Guy with Powerpoint presentation): "So you see, that if the spending trend continues over the long run, by April, most of our users will turn away and effectively..."

zzzzzzzzzz.

"The long run" is the barometer with which we gauge something's sustainability. As a distance runner, sure, I can comply. But the concept that in "the long run", something can be tested and then categorically listed as "failure", well, that doesn't hold very much water. Unless water is selling, in which case, SELL SELL SELL!

Take my long run of 20 miles yesterday:

By mile 8 out on the trails, I was feeling horrid and certain that this was going to be a painful experience. And in the moment, sure it was. But by mile 12, I was back in gear and feeling like a million, muddy bucks. Why? I will now reveal to you my new favorite song on my iPod playlist:

Clicky

Hate me yet?

This plucked me out of the doldrums and suddenly, I was transformed. No, not into a young Alberto Salazar, but a 14 year old in the year nineteen hundred and eighty four, when parachute pants disgraced the face of fashion and the Chicago Cubs clinched the division for the first time since the year 1258.

I cannot properly map out the ups and downs experienced during a long run...yet, here I am, attempting to do just that. Patience and hope (and if you're sick of the word "hope", which I hope you are not, replace it with "bravery") help to expose all that can be experienced in "the long run", in just about every arena in life. If, at mile 35 you think all is lost, keep pressing forward and see how mile 36 feels...and 37...and so forth.

I guess I'm writing this with much on my mind. It's probably more therapeutic for my brain and self than anything else in these uncertain days. I have to trust that in the long run, the bad and scary patches will ebb and flow, just as in happier days.

Okay, NOW you have to admit that you hate me, even just a little bit.