We’re afraid, still afraid of something. At least, something’s holding Us back, keeping Us away from the work. Exactly that which We should be doing. Wonder what it is, but every time We come closer it slips from Our cognition. Each freaking time. It sits deep and probably requires a bunch of solitude mixed with revelation. The so called quiet time. Gotta start making some room for that shit. Need to dive deep and figure this out, otherwise nothing’s gonna happen.
Though an excruciating amount of pain lingers throughout Our body, do wish to tell you We’re doing fine, sort of, never better than this though. Went through the madness of 50 miles, damn that was something. Not one second spent in disbelief, every bit of Our existence was focused on achieving this “goal”, without ever pondering to quit. It came up, sure, many times, without a doubt, but We strayed from those negative thoughts as fast as We took another step. It took Us a while though, close to ten hours, though that was the point. Ran for five hours not too long ago, somewhere in March, now We did the ten and got Our first ever Ultra in the bag. What became obvious though is Our mental power when the silence comes, when everything and everyone else fades from the scenery, that’s when We truly become one with that goal of finishing. The night grew colder but Our fire lit up as soon as the slurring crowds vanished from the streets, all safe and warm on their couches, behind their TV’s, or in their beds. Whatever… To Us that was a gift of mental power. We could see those living rooms burning bright with artificial light. People wasting away on a Wednesday, decompressing from a ‘hard’ day’s work.
Miles On Miles
To be honest, mile 10 had Us cruising, dancing deep within Our mental being. Mile 15 had Us visualizing the gift of another 35. Mile 20 had Us cursing, cursing Our own stupidity and stubborn character. Not the one during the run, no, We praise that one. It was the one who thought of doing the run. Oh, do We hate that motherfucker, and actually love him at the same time. A strange relationship. Mile 25 had Us strong, quick stop and straight for mile 30, which had Us second guessing Our actions and Our determination. Enter the blister, a bottle cap sized blister on the sole of Our left foot, right on the edge and in the middle of Our joints. A gallon bottle cap for your information. The cost of skipping that sock change to a later loop, loop 5 to be exact. Mile 35 took a toll, the blister got worse, still closed, dried Our feet, took a breather and smoked a cigarette. Mile 40 got Our mind back into it. We were so close with only 10 miles to go, fuck that blister is what We thought to ourself. Rested and dried those feet one last time, another cigarette for the heck of it, and on to mile 45. The hardest miles to conquer were sitting right about the corner. We sat down for a couple minutes, juiced up and took in those last bits of nutritions, talking ourself into finishing. The foot all fucked up and the ankle screaming from the constant shifted pressure due to the blister. Those last couple miles, 3.8 to be exact, had Us go through some tough revelations. Walked for a bit, then called ourself a little bitch. Didn’t stop after that. We finished limping but We finished nonetheless, just short of ten hours. Our goal achieved, Our standard met.
It was one hell of an experience and the pain was both maddening and pleasant to the mind, no doubt about that. This experience really broadens the perspective of struggle, also pain, and actually many things at once. It creeps under your skin, a certain passion for exploration. It grows the notion of seeking out what more is possible with this body that We were given and a ruthless dedication to endless striving. Well, it did that for Us, don’t know if this could be the case for everyone, though We strongly believe that it is.
Gotta Figure It Out
Well, We told you, hoping it could spark some long lost flame to surpass yourself. Guess We’ll find out eventually. It’s funny, because back when We met you, you were full of that, and damn, did we go places, and took bets, and risked our health, and whatever, we were running about without a break, all over the place. we had some fun, our fun, because we didn’t hold back and we did it our way.
Now it’s different, isn’t it? Better, maybe. You settled down, everyone always does, settle for less, less struggle, less pain, less dreams, less freedom, less faith. We don’t blame you nor anybody. We get it now. But We’re an entity of temporary, a soul of perpetual search. No place to call home, no love to find nor build, no career to maintain, no wishes, no expectations. That’s what We found out along those 50 miles. It wasn’t about the speed, nor the distance, nor the style, not the achievement. It was about the fight with ourself, the struggle against all those ‘no’s’ and ‘please stop’s’ that did it for Us. It was about keeping it up, showing who’s really in control here, revealing the true man in the mirror, the one behind the grin and gleaming eyes once filled with deceit. We surfaced the boy hiding within this manly shell. The kid that always doubted, that relied on fear and deception. The one that wove his web of lies to deal with a life he never wished to live. And sure, We know, nobody chose their life. But this ain’t about what We chose, it’s about the madness handed to Us and how We’ve come to use it instead of ignoring it, avoiding it, like they always told Us We should. Now We got a plate of strange explorations that sort of explain what the fuck is going on inside this mystery mind of Ours. And that, well that just might be the goal of Our life, the reason for Our existence. Figure this shit out…