with only seven weeks to go until my upcoming marathon, andy said last night, “it’s a form of extremism.”

jonno said, “surely you’ve proven your point after three.  why do another one?”

i had a lot of time to ponder these comments today, as i spent the better part of three hours running.  they sprang to mind towards the end of 16 miles, when my feet were hot and aching, when my face was crusted with salt, when my clothes and hair were dripping with sweat, when my ligaments were as contracted and stiff as piano wire, when my stomach had long passed the point of painfully empty, when my leg muscles were burning to quit, when i was so tired i honestly didn’t think i could continue on.

and yet i did.

this is it.  this is what lies at the core of pushing myself to extremes: it is doing that thing which i think i cannot do.  it’s not to prove a point to anyone but myself – because no one sees you when you’re at mile 13 on a training run and struggling, or limping home with a pulled muscle after just four.  no one is impressed by that.   it’s reaching that point when i want to stop because things are too hard, too scary, too overwhelming… and getting past it.  because each and every time i get beyond the limitations of my fears and doubts and exhaustion, whether at mile 6 or mile 26, feels like a triumph. i feel like i can do anything.

i feel *invincible*.  that’s worth it all.

(and let’s face it: the nice muscle cut just above the hip is pretty cool too )

the acorn – crooked legs

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