Can we talk about the “Muddy Buddy” and the “Spartan Run” and all these idiotic running events. As the name implies, there is mud. There are also obstacles. I assume that some may have barbed wire or flames or God only knows what. These are not, I think, runs for runners.
There is a place out on a run where a person loses himself. Flea – yes, the Red Hot Chili Peppers bassist – says something in Runner’s World about hitting that spot somewhere between the first and second hour. I think it is important here to point out that I was into the Red Hot Chili Peppers before you were. Were you into them in 1988? How old were you in 1988? I was 15. Flea was about 25. So, guess how old he is now. About 50. We’re getting old.
Which means we need to wrap our troubled souls in the warm blanket of a long run. That sounds a little weird, but it works. Something about the rhythm of the exercise combines with the drawing of energy into the body and, therefore, away from that nattering little imbecile in my head. Once I’ve been there, I can carry that around for days. But it has been weeks, months even, since I have been. It’s time to get back. And no, I don’t want to push a shopping cart while doing so.