Day 66: Dream State

I just ran 3 miles in 36:12. That nets to a 12:04 mile, which is the fastest I've ever run! The funny thing is, I wasn't even going for speed tonight; I was just trying to keep an even, comfortable pace.

I've been sick for days, as you know, and today I'm still under the weather. The training schedule called for a 2-3 mile run. Usually, I take the longer distance recommended but today expected to run the 2. I don't always have to be an over-achiever.

Breaking the job up into smaller bits, I started slow and focused on completing the first mile. Somewhere along the way though, I stopped checking the stats and drifted off into a dream state. I've always had a very big capacity for creating a fantasy world for myself to escape whatever is really going on in my life that is uncomfortable or disappointing. Don't get me wrong, I know the difference between reality and my own projections, but - if a minute is 60 seconds no matter how you spend it, why not do what you can to make the best of it? When I'm in my head, I get a certain look on my face. I've seen it in photos taken of me as young as 3; it's a far away look complemented by a half-smile.

Before today, I've been so fixated on the mechanics of running (getting the oxygen in and the CO2 out, pulling my pants up, retying the laces, not flying off the treadmill) that I haven't even contemplate going to my happy place. But tonight, because the physical distractions were minor, I somehow just slipped into the zone without thinking about it... and it was good. While I was dreaming, I locked eyes with myself in the mirror on the wall across the room, and tried very hard to keep my head as steady as possible, as if I were balancing a book on it... My body became a piece of machinery, working hard, fuel pumping, compressor cooling, and a whole network of gears rotating in unison to keep my hips in line, legs moving, arms swinging. I didn't have to think about a thing. My body was running without me. I could observe it working, but I wasn't in the booth pulling the levers. I could instead turn my attention to directing an original work, being played out on some stage off to the side.

At 2.36 miles I was harshly "awakened" by a strong feeling of nausea. Argh! Why the nausea again? Nausea makes me feel like such an amateur. I had to drop the pace down to 3.2 for a few minutes so I could stabilize. Then I pushed the speed way back up to 6.2, and then 6.8, and then 7.0, and then 7.2, just because I could.

The mile I'd spent in my head had been so nice; but when I saw my time at the end of the session, I felt doubly rewarded because tonight, both story lines - my fantasy world's and my reality's - had happy endings.