The Matter Over Mind.

So I did my 8 miles.

Yay.

My feet feel a bit rough and my knee was doing the same thing it did during the Sony Half Marathon - briefly tried to take my legs elsewhere. Oh, and I had a tummy cramp for the first two miles and I think I threw up a little in my mouth three or four times and I can still taste the Gu (Mint Chocolate) I used at mile four. Which is fine, but I keep thinking I should be making a proper dinner.

And yet, I'm still happy I went out and did this.

Distance running is mental. There are steps:

1. Convince yourself you are going to run "a really, really, really, long way." And that it will be "super awesome wicked fun." For instance, when I ask people to sponsor me I tell them "I'm going on a 26.2 mile scenic tour of Rome for the National Autistic Society in under 6 hours."

2. Delude the rest of your body into cooperating. This may take some work. You do this through this thing called "consistency." Consistency is when you nudge your body out the door in whatever horrible weather England throws at you regularly. Not whenever you feel like it, but a lot of times. Eventually, the body agrees... but it will most likely pitch a few fits.

3. Combine your brain and rest of body together in one big happy, rainbow-filled existence. And when one or the other gives out you continue motion (walking, hopping, crawling) and result to "Little Engine That Could" - you think you can you think you can you think you can...

What your end game is is the Runner's High. I read somewhere at some point (on Wikipedia or something) that this high is equal to a good dose of heroine. This is why you find running addicts. It's one of the few addictions that people support, to an end. I mean, yes, I own a Fuel Belt and dayglo running leggings... but I can't quote my finish times of the last few races and God help me on splits and farklets. Seriously.

Today it was the Runner's Zen - which I refer to it as, anyway. Not the sparkler shooting joy but the peace of knowing I've done my goal for the day. To me, it takes breaking something down and edging forward to get anywhere, and knowing I can cross 8 miles off the list makes 10 seem, well, doable.

I think I can I think I can I think I can... anyway...