The Deep, Deep Burn

I, am a middle distance runner.

I thrive on 300's, 400's, even 600's if the day is right.

But when coach tells us to take an easy day friday, that always means one thing on Saturday. The Time Trial.

Every month or two, we do a 4 1/2 mile Time Trial around the campuses. The course isn't really difficult at all, but it gets to you. There's a long, sloping uphill, then long downhill, the up a little, the long down, the long up, then finish on the track.

I hate these runs with a passion.

For a middle distance runner, these LONG tempos are incredibly hard. God they are long.

You reach the two mile mark just before you turn to run down the longest straight, and all I can think is "oh god oh god comon keep pushing you're halfway there. only halfway? yes only halfway but you have 12 more minutes you fucker you give me 12 more minutes. But that's over 2 miles! I dont care don't think about it like that it's just 12 minutes. now go. GO. GO.

The intense fire makes sense to me as I tear the track to pieces, kicking off the bend.

But this Fire....the deep, deep burdening pain, just destroys you. It get's a tiny bit worse every 10 seconds or so, but basically it's just dealing with a slowly twisting knife, implanted into my gut.

Colors become more defined as I get delusional, confusing me. But no time for that, I have to focus on this pain and how to MAKE IT GO AWAY.

All of the sudden I'm on the track and this is home, oh god I can count the meter I have left just lift your legs and push one last time, catch one more person jesus it hurts, just for 45 more seconds. Okay 44 more seconds. 43...42....41...

As soon as you cross the line you're done and pushing mode is off immediately. I sit down on the bench and curse the California heat, even though it's 8 am and its really not that hot, I just want someone to blame for my pain.

Because as soon as I stand up, my body lets me know what I did to it. That deep, deep burn doesn't simply "go away." It stays there, and I don't want to eat but I know I have to, all I want to do is drown in a pool of Gatorade and sleep, sleep, sleep.

Every time I do this workout, there is a goal time for me to hit. And I always just hit it.

Does it bother me that destroying every part of my body I hold dear is....expected? That they KNOW I will kill myself, and they plan accordingly?

You bet your ass it does.

But I do it anyway.

Because it has to get done.