I have a bone--or several--to pick with you. First, I loathe rest days--they make me restless. On the days when I don't run, my body is grateful for the break and I am happy to be able to stretch, relax and be productive in other areas of my life. The problem is, I'm not productive.
Today was not supposed to be a rest day--I had 3 miles on the calendar--but I was so unexpectedly wiped from yesterday's run that I knew I needed to take today off and get back into my rhythm tomorrow. So, today is hard partly because I feel lazy and partly because I am so anxious to run, so excited to train and eager to improve. I like what running does for my body and I love what it does for my mental focus and emotional strength. Without it as part of my day, I feel lost.
My friend Lynn says that there's no problem in the world that can't be solved with a good 10k run--unless it takes a marathon. I think she's right and I'm starting to believe that running is good for me because it forces me to focus on what's going on in my life and to DEAL with it rather than pushing it aside, waiting for problems to go away. At the same time, while pounding into the pavement, I'm gaining distance and perspective, without actually escaping. So far in my life, running is the best ( and the cheapest) form of running away. Hopefully, on a good day, I come back with a clear head. On a bad day, it's another story, a rest day too.
Part of gaining discipline, it seems, is learning when it's okay to rest and to appreciate stillness. I've never been good at such things; I lack patience altogether, especially with myself. I hate living in the country; I hate quiet; I am a devoted student who still can't attend classes without doodling incessantly; I'm terrible at waiting in line. I have no appreciation for slow development or growth. Thus, running is problematic. Truth be told, I want to be an elite runner. I would love to cross the marathon finish in two hours flat to the resounding fanfare of media and crowds. But I never will. I'm a middle-of-the-pack long distance runner who is trying hard to train for her first two-digit run and race. Yet, I want to be able to do it tomorrow and feel lazy for not accomplishing it today. Worst of all, today, I did NOTHING to gain proximity to my goal and it makes me antsy and irritable.
In short--rest days suck. And I don't know what to do about it.
When it comes to work ethic and discipline, I am a double-sided coin. I am both devoted and driven, committed and conscientious and lazy as hell. Somewhere in college, I learned to be the queen of procrastination and have been fighting it off ever since. Like most people, these extremes of productivity are mediated by desire; the more I want and believe in something, the more I will be fully committed to success. Be it a goal, a relationship or a task, I'm "all in" for as long as it takes--no matter what. But, if I fail to engage in something , or sometimes in the early stages, if I feel resistance or doubt, I want to throw in the towel, throw up my hands and walk away. This strategy is useless-- built on fear and self-preservation. More than I want to succeed at times, I am afraid to fail. But failing to try gets you nowhere.
I've also been burned by this faulty strategy more times than I 'd like to admit. But, the few times when I've had the courage to commit, to not procrastinate, berate or worry, the outcome has been worth it.
So it goes with running. I'm all in. I just need to stay there.
I'll keep training and running because I know my heart is in it AND I can do it. I just hate being tested every time I'm asked to slow down. Surely, when my training is actually hard and my runs are actually long, I'll come to appreciate the lack of pain and frustration in stillness. I'll be so tired yet so accomplished that I will be able to rest.
For now:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
~from " Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
