Running Up That Hill

If I only could,
I’d be running up that hill.
If I only could,
I’d be running up that hill.
It doesn’t hurt me.

Do you want to feel how it feels?
Do you want to know that it doesn’t hurt me?
Do you want to hear about the deal that I’m making?
You, it’s you and me.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places,
Be running up that “trail”,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.
If I only could, oh...

Kate Bush – Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

I run, in some cases, to hurt emotionally and physically, especially at the longer distances, surpassing 20 miles. What people do not realize is that hurting emotionally and physically on a run is a million times easier than what we experience in life. In essence, hurt during running makes you feel alive. I read in all the Running magazines about the importance of recovery – taking a day off for every mile raced. My recovery is my next run because it is on my next run where I am at peace and in recovery. Recovery is not sitting around waiting for all the tears in the micro fibers of my muscles to heal. I do believe in active recovery. I understand that my body can only take so much and that optimal running can only occur when properly trained and recovered. However, I know that I will never win a race and the chances of ever winning an age group award are slim so even when I am in optimal condition, there is no winning as known traditionally. But, do I win? Yes, I win because of my own personal reason for running. To me, running is about the experiences, comfort, solitude, community and stressing the mind and body beyond what is normal or what is generally accepted as normal. It is simplistic in a sense. I run against me, the course, the conditions and, yes, time. Does time even matter? I am not as obsessed about time as I used to be. Maybe this comes with age when you know the days of overall PRs are gone. However, I am an analytical person and time, distance, elevation and conditions are easily analyzed. But, this is not the essence of my running any longer. It is purely about the experience and the non-tangible attributes of perseverance and endurance. Except for weather conditions and course, running is entirely in my control. I decide how fast and how far to go. I decide what I take from it. I decide whether I quit or continue (although I have never quit a race.) Sometimes I don’t decide what I get from it – what I take from it, yes, but not necessarily what I get from it. This is so because I seem to always get something new out of every experience.

I ran my 2nd 50K this past weekend and because of a wrong turn, I actually ran further than the advertised distance, completing about 32 miles. Running up that hill; the steep 300 foot hill at miles 11 and 19. This is an out and back course so once the hill was navigated at mile 11, you needed to be mentally prepared to do it all over again at mile 19. I know 300 feet does not sound like much but this was 300 feet at a 14% grade. How many steep, rocky hills do we have to climb in life? How many out and backs are there where we know that there will always be another climb, another mental and physical challenge? With experience, perseverance, and resolve, we can make it up those hills and eventually even “run” up them. We all have our hills and if I only could, I’d make a deal with God and I’d get Him to swap our places. In many cases, I know that running seems trivial to the hills that we climb in life. I also know, from having a running life, that running not only helps us climb the hills but to also navigate life in general. Compared to the hills in life, this hill overlooking Blue Marsh Lake was easy and thus my point, it doesn’t hurt me. Do you want to know how it feels?

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God,
And I'd get him to swap our places