Mountains, Finishing, and Little Round Top

I was out for a short run this morning. 3 miles was all of it. Chat (the dog) wondered what ever happened to the 12 mile odyssey that happened last week. He really thinks that their were some chipmunks and ground squirrels that could be fomenting a rebellion. And of course he is the only one that can deal with those little creatures.

So I read about "visualization" in a book somewhere. It helps you to put yourself in the place and in the time for an event. I think that this is helpful because then you can see yourself lying in a hospital bed 30 years from now and in my case dying from nothing.

"Nurse, what do you mean he is dying of nothing?" Doctor Bob says.

"Well Doc it seems that he ran a lot, swam sparingly, gave away all the fat he could to others, and is just dying of nothing. You should go visit his next door neighbor - he has got at least ten names to what he is going to kick out for..."

The other more pressing thing is the whole marathon "thing." I mean it is 26.2 miles. That does not trouble me. It is only 26.2 miles and most of it is downhill. What is troubling is that I might not have enough oatmeal to power the engine. I might not beat the Africans that are in the race. I might not really have the solution to world peace and the worst thing is is that I might have crappy music on my pod that could slow me down. Oh the horror and the agony of listening to the "best of michael jackson" and having not put in any songs by Ozzy Ozbourne.

But, the past 15 weeks have been spent building the engine that could. The past 15 weeks have been gathering the sharpening the shovel and building up my coal pile to drive the locomotive that is me. I visualize at times my body. The feet and legs are the drive wheels of a great locomotive. The torso is the furnace that burns the fuel to power the legs. The arms pump and move to get the rest of it going. The head is where it all happens. Thinking of what is going on and what needs to happen. Guaging the distance and relaying to the rest of the body what needs to be done. Pinching off the thoughts of agony and defeat and replacing them with images of power and resolve.

I draw an image from from the Civil War. Joshua Chamberlain was a General commanding his troops from 20th Maine at Gettysburg. He was in charge of holding the end of the line. If he did not hold the end of the line the Confederates would flank the Union and collapse the line. At the very last moment he recognized that the Confederates were coming up the hill - and he ordered his men to "fix bayonets." Joshua and his men saved the union that day as numbers were against them and through the smoke and haze of battle he saw an opening and took it.

I am not yet as brave as General Chamberlain. Not by a long shot. But during this training stint I have seen the goal through the pain, fog, and uncertainty. Taking the opportunity and seizing it gives me the drive to see past mile 20 and see that there is only 6.2 left and even the most mentally unstable person would be able to get his butt in gear and go for it. If men with bayonets fixed can charge down the hill and secure the victory, then even I, Fat Man, can withstand 26.2.