20 mile training runs.

I am at that point in my training and Saturday was the first 20 of the year. Despite having done around 15-20 over the past 4 years, each time seems somewhere between challenging and impossible. It is such a daunting number. A imposing distance.

I ran with Lisa for the first 7 miles in the darkness of early morning. Even the moon and stars were on OFF mode today, due to the impending rain. Deafening silence also accompanied us today. Lisa’s normal sparkle was tempered by life’s events. Her father is writing the last chapter of his life and the impact is deep. Not even the safe haven of the trail can provide temporary relief. So we just run. Maybe if we do it long and fast enough, we can out distance the inevitable. Maybe we can find an unused miracle among the leaves and acorns along the way. Maybe. . . .maybe, we’ll keep running.

The miles go past surprisingly fast and Lisa is done for the day. I have not even reached the half way point and now, rain will be my new companion. Normally at such times, I like being alone but today it is a little too lonely. Too much time to think. To feel. But I’ll just keep running.

I splash through the puddles with regularity through miles 12, 13, 14. The rain has weighed down my sneakers but at my speed, does it really matter. This distance takes a lot of time no matter what and the inevitable will happen — extreme fatigue, stiffness and going inside to the shadow places where it can be pretty scary. Especially now.

If you have done endurance events, you know the places. The monkey mind scatter finally quiets as the body begins to get heavier and heavier from fatigue and distance. I go inside and dig around for the Optimist, begging him to speak. “You can do it. Only 4 miles to go! You have done this before. Go for it.” It helps but unfortunately is short lived. So I search again and just keep running.

I find the place where I don’t go often. The place where Self-Pity is battling Determination for supremacy. The dialog sounds like one of those TV wresting shows –

“Stop. You can’t do any more.”

“Like hell. I’ll show you. Take that!”

Soon they quiet down and Reflection is the next to visit. I think of my father in law and wonder. What is going on inside of him? What is he thinking? Feeling? Did he live the life that he wanted? If he needs a title of his life’s book, I would suggest, “Exemplary.” As the long time nursing home administrator, he built a remarkable reputation for comforting others, assisting those who were in the deep winter of their lives. If there is any justice in life, the Angel of Compassion has a perfect memory. Or at least access to an accurate data base.

I can’t help but think of my own mortality and where I am in life. Goals. Dreams. The realization that more is needed in order to live than just a beautiful entryway and a decorated mantle piece. I want to make a difference in the lives of others. When I cross over, I want it to be because the tank was empty. Mission completed. Apparently, the Philosopher slipped in the back door at mile 19 without my noticing. He is welcome anytime.

At the place where the body wants to stop and the mind is nearly in agreement, mile 20 is here.

20 miles.

20,000 questions.

Zero answers.

A statistician’s nightmare no doubt.

So where to go from here? What to say? So many thoughts and feeling floating around. What to do?

I have no idea.

So maybe I’ll just keep running.