Quitters.

"thousand miles to be travelled, start with foot (placed) down".

To you that know me.  I am not a philosopher.  I tend to take things literally.  Very literally.  My wonderful spouse gets tight in the eyes when my Inner Viking starts the neighbors house on fire and is looking for glass to pack into the cannon.  Gone are the days of plunder and carrying off the women.  So when I begin my trial of 1000 miles - I reflect on the inner me.  On my brain and my heart and the fuel within me that keeps me going.

Introspection is not one of my strong suits - but what I find in my heart and in my soul is a drive.  Drive to go the next step and drive to get it done.  I find that I don't want to quit - that goals that I put no paper mean something and that what I say means something and that what I do speaks more volumes than are in a library.

Let me illustrate this point to you in 4.5 miles that I did today.  It is smoggy outside, 25 degrees was the high today.  I had been busy all day.  I had had conference calls from Hades's subdivision on the River Stix, and mentally I was fatigued.  But.  I knew in the back of my mind that I needed to get out and go.  I needed to tap my desire and fuel my legs and get my butt in gear and go the distance.

The tough part is that first step.  The tough part is getting yourself out the door and committing that you are going to make it.  The tough part is going.  As my wise Grandfather once said - "If you are going - GO!"

So, let me tell you what I was thinking while I was running.  I was thinking about those that quit.  I was thinking about those that pull up short and don't want to go any further.  I was thinking about how hard would it be to make me quit?  I was thinking about how much pain would stop me.

I would like to tell you that I don't know the answers to those questions.  I don't know how far and how long and how much I can go because I have yet to get there and I have yet to know these things.  I watched a runner in an event at the London Olympics.  She fell down or was tripped and she flipped around landed on the ground and gave up.  She could have gotten up  - she could have kept going - she could have finished.  She did not.  She gave up and she gave in.

Have I been in pain before?  Yes.  Have I wanted to quit?  Yes.  Have I wanted to take the bus home because I was 10 miles out and knew that I had 10 miles to get back home?  Yes.  Have I been running on a railroad track in the middle of the night and lost and I don't know where I am and I am scared that I won't find my way back?  Yes.  I have been in those circumstances.

But the difference between giving up and keeping yourself going is slight.  It is the drive and desire that picks up your foot and puts it back down on the pavement and pushes you another mile.  It is the desire and the drive to make your way home and your desire and drive to find your way back.  Sure you can take the easy way out and knock on the door of some stranger and ask for a ride home.  You can give up.  Or you can pick yourself up and move forward.  You can pick yourself up and make the difference.

You are not me, and I am not you - but I think everyone has abilities that if they look hard enough and deep enough they will find resolve, grit, and determination to go the next step.  You pick the foot up and you put it down.  You box up your hurt, fatigue, pain, anguish, issues, and you put it in a mental box and smash it with a hammer.  You gather up your inner strength and determination and you do what others are afraid of doing.  You push yourself because you want what is at the end of that run you want the knowledge that you did not fail and that you triumphed over what demons chased you the entire way.

If you are looking for a pat on the back because you finished - you won't find it here.  I will ask you what is next - and what are you prepared to do to get there.  If you stop - the demons win.  The demons of the clock, time, age, hurt, anguish, hips, bones, toes, face, and fat all just want you to stop.  Stop and rest a while - you can get going in a bit. Or a year or ten years.

I challenge myself to not stop.  To take the last full measure of angst and determination and put it in the furnace of desire and power me the next step.  I challenge you to do the same and beat me to the finish line.

The Fat Man - and his cells....

1/7/13

Ah.  You come to visit me again.  To learn of the fat man that runs?  Ah Yes, I know him - he has new shoes - runs in a balaclava, drags his dog along with him, and all at sub-20 degree temperatures.  Oh I know! Insanity must be his constant companion.  Instead of kindly fluffy angels with halos and harps - his accompaniment is the eggnog that he had for Christmas, and the spinach dip that only he could imbibe.  Did I mention the fudge - yes the few pieces that were left on the kitchen counter and disappeared?  Those pieces drag behind him like chains kept on Jacob Marley!  You see he runs at a pace that frightens his fat.  One by one he severs those chains that hold him bound and the fat cells  begin to quiver and instead of waiting for the brutal task master to whip them and deride them - they commit suicide and throw themselves into the eternally burning oven of the Fat Man.  You see the Fat Man accumulated those pounds by honest laziness.  Ahhh it was a bowl of dip there, and roasted turkey there, and a late night chug of evil chocolate milk - and possibly some Eggnog waffles on a Saturday Morning when he should have been out on the long run.  Now he has to pay the piper.  Now that is something that the Fat Man can do!  He could listen to the fat cells cheering him on... or as the master of his own Roman Galley, he can start to beat the drum, lashing the frightened cells!  Oh you can hear the pace setting drum now.... Thump.  Thump. Thump.  And then it increases the pace... Thump.  Thump.  Thump.  And now you see the Orange Rolls from Thanksgiving shaking in their shackles begging to cast themselves into the fire.  Thump Thump Thump Thump.  Oh yes now the Birthday Cake is weeping on row 2 and it seems to have a tub of frosting and some sugar cookies next to it in the same row.  Slaving to to faster and faster.  Now you have lost the caramels, and the clam chowder... Thump Thump Thump!  Soon the beating of the oars in the water and the wailing fat cells begin to burst into flames to feed the Fat Man... for there is only one way in - and one way out... The Fat Man Runs...