Miles for the week: ~16 (3.3/3.3/3.3/6.3)
Average resting heart rate per Fitbit: 56
Weight: 116
CityStrides coverage of Northampton: 32%
Long run: 6.28 miles; avg HR 129; time 1:19:25 (avg 12:39), splits 13:23, 11:46, 11:59, 12:09, 13:46, 12:25
Wow, 3 weeks in a row my long run speed has gotten faster while my heart rate has been lower. Probably almost entirely the weather? It was pouring when I started out; I know from experience that running in the rain is fine, but it’s definitely harder to get myself out the door. Once I’m thoroughly wet and have soaked my feet by splashing through the first unavoidable puddle, I start enjoying it. I’ve learned the term voluntary discomfort from the Stoics via Mr. Money Mustache, so can name what I’ve long vaguely recognized: there’s a particular satisfaction in going beyond tacking “…but it doesn’t matter” onto negative thoughts (NRMT advice), to embracing and actually relishing physical discomfort. It makes me feel like a “badass” in the modern sense, if I have that right: someone who is not intimidated by circumstances (like rain or heat or snow—I’ve got that) or people (very far on that one).
One of the learning experiences from my childhood, a story I’ve told many times, is heading for school on a miserable sleety day and stepping into a gutter right across the street from our apartment. My boot filled with slush, I wailed, and my dad took me home to dry my feet and change my socks. Then, to my shock and indignation, he took me right back out to school, even though I was a little late. Surely that level of hardship meant I was done for the day! His expectation that I would just pick myself up and try again impressed me, even though I felt I couldn’t quite live up to it. I thought about that as my shoes squished and felt sad that my dad is past the point that he can remember and discuss that memory… but we’ve talked about it before, and I will remember it until it’s my turn to let the past drop away.
Then it stopped raining and I noticed a cool phenomenon: the shower continued in the woods. I’ve often experienced the way a gust of wind recreates a sudden shower by shaking off drops from the leaves, but this was the same tempo and volume as a steady rain. The colors of the fields were still beautifully saturated, and flowers in the orange and yellow spectrum glowed, as did the bunches of goldfinches ping-ponging around in the weedy verges.
I’ve started up a minimal (5-10 mn) daily meditation practice, and embracing discomfort while running led me to think about how you’re supposed to sit with itches and aches. And then, right on cue, my keys started jingling in my waist pack. Argh, that drives me crazy! But isn’t that a similar situation, where the sound is what it is and my annoyance is something I can explore and eventually let melt away? I did refrain from re-adjusting the keys (which is often fruitless and frustrating anyway) for quite a little while.