Seven Miles in Heaven

It was a gorgeous summer morning in Maine, Modern Philosophers, so it was the perfect setting for a run and some mind games.

The running is self explanatory, but I should probably explain the second part.

You see, Modern Philosophers, lately, I’ve realized that I am seven curious.

Now I know this is most likely just a phase, and most of us experimented with it in college, but I’ve always been a little behind the curve when it comes to social norms.

I mean, I’d like to see what it would be like, but what if I can’t get it up for seven?  That would be a bit embarrassing and might cause me to regress at a time when I’m trying to me more outgoing and open minded.

So I’ve decided to approach this curiosity with caution.  And might have played a little mind game with myself to get me to try it without even realizing.

Which means that when I left for my morning run, I told myself I was going six miles.  In the back of my naughty mind, however, I planned to finally try to get it on with seven.

I really needed to shake things up after the week I had, so a little dalliance with seven miles seemed like it was worth the risk.

After a very relaxing and peaceful vacation, I made the decision to not let the return to work stress me.  I told myself I would not work any extra hours, I would not complain or worry about things that were out of my control, and I would just smile and stay positive.

By Friday, my brain felt like it had been put through a blender.  Multiple times and at various settings.

My teammate missed the entire week due to illness, and had also missed half of the previous week while I was on vacation.

So I not only had to catch up on my work, but I also had to tackle unresolved issues on her plate.

I ended up working extra hours to keep from falling too far behind, got very stressed along the way, and found it very hard to just put on a happy face.

My cunning plan to ease myself gently back into the workforce with an easy, four day week was thwarted.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault, other than my own for being foolish enough to think that I could predict how an always unpredictable work week was going to play out.

So I definitely needed a way to cope with the stress this morning because there was no way I was going to allow my weekend to be ruined.

Running clears my head.  It’s hard to focus on the bad stuff when I’m working so hard to make sure my heart, lungs, and legs are working in conjunction to prevent me from ending up passed out in the fetal position by the side of the road.

I know they say you can’t run from your problems, but I prove them wrong every time I lace up my shoes and hit the road.

It’s like I’m sweating out the stress when I’m out there.  Every stride takes me a little further away from whatever the hell was bothering me, and brings me closer to feeling like I am a bad ass mother@#$%^& who can do anything he sets his mind to.

Yes, Modern Philosophers, my runner’s high causes me to curse like a sailor, and if you don’t like it, then I apologize.

The run felt good, the stress was exiting my body profusely, and it was a gorgeous morning.   So I kept venturing down little side streets, knowingly adding more distance, but never officially saying that I had decided to give seven everything I had.

But I knew what I was doing.

And I liked it.

I was pushing myself to do something new, and my confidence grew with every stride.

Of course I wasn’t doing my best imitation of The Flash.  I was going slow and steady because no one ever feels sure of himself the first time.  I was a bundle of nerves, just hoping I was doing it right, and praying that I’d be able to finish.

More than five miles in, I passed the little old man who always cheers me on when he sees me.  He asked me how many miles I was going today, and when I confidently told him “Seven!” his startled reply of “My God!” made me chuckle and gave me a little added push.

I was thrilled when the lady who lives inside my running app announced that I had passed the seven mile mark.  I wanted to give her a long, wet, deep kiss, but I decided that I really need to limit my experimentation to one thing a day.

Making out with a cyber woman was just going to have to wait.

I made it back to The House on the Hill with a renewed sense of self-confidence, an overwhelming sense of pride, and a set of running clothes that had to be burned immediately because they were soaked through with an insane amount of sweat and stress.

I was not sure how things would go when I set out this morning.  I was intimidated by the idea of getting involved with a distance so much more experienced than I, and even though I’ve proven that I can do so much over the past five months, I had my doubts about whether I could get lucky with seven.

Bruce always suggests in my favorite song, “Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night”.  Even though it wasn’t night, and I he most likely wasn’t alluding to running, those lyrics always resonate with me.

Several hours later, I’m sore, but still glowing with pride (it could also be sweat, but I have showered, so probably not).  I love that I keep conquering new goals, and don’t simply rest on my laurels as I’ve tended to do in the past.

After the week I had, those seven miles I ran this morning were Heaven, Modern Philosophers.  If you haven’t run seven miles yet today, I highly recommend you get your butt in gear and go for it.

As I continue to prove, you’ll never know what you can accomplish until you try…