What from?

My legs have started to itch from lack of running--the kind of desperate yearn that ensues my time away from it. People who don't run will never comprehend the unfathomable love I have for the heart pounding, heavy breathing, lactic-acid producing act of chasing up and down hills in the early fog of morning.

I've been doing my Insanity videos since my schedule has been pretty strict; I don't like to run in the day here because 1) it gets really humid, and 2) the roads are so curvy that it makes it hard to be seen by oncoming cars. So unfortunately my running schedule has been pretty pathetic.

How funny my journey in discovering running has been. I was never a runner--the most I had run was some sprints in soccer. Freshman year I decided to be brave and join the cross-country team. I'm not sure why I did it. I think I wanted to be a runner, and I've always been the kind of person that says "you know, I want to be good at this", and I become good at it. Man, was I wrong (or so I thought). I sucked. I beyond sucked. I ran one race, and I didn't even run the whole thing. I was pathetic--so pathetic, in fact, that I ended up quitting/getting kicked off. I was so embarrassed at myself.

And so, in the spirit of the typical me, I decided to get good. I ran all of the time. I pushed myself, and I was determined; and the best part is I started to get healthy. I didn't even notice it while it was happening, suddenly I was getting fit and feeling good.

I got better. I joined cross-country again in my senior year of high school; and okay, I wasn't great, but I did run some good races and I had a blast doing it. Even my coaches noticed the difference. I could keep up with some of the big runners. It is still probably one of my favorite years I've had, and I owe it to the wonderful friends and coaches I had in that sport. I could run for miles and miles and it was beautiful.

That's what running is. Beautiful, exhilarating, passionate, vehement. Running is a deep ocean of never-ending highs; I swim in its waves, delving deep beneath the surface of  pain and heavy breathing. I don't know what it is, but I'm addicted. I love feeling the muscles in my legs get stronger and push harder. I love seeing my mile time go down. Most of all, I love being sweaty, tired, and sore. I love pushing myself to the point of pain--okay...So I'm pretty masochistic. (Edit: be safe about running. I got a little out of control and had some serious injuries. So take care of yourself. Train safe and smart).

I believe in pushing yourself further than you think you can. And yeah, it's hard. Yeah, it will hurt.  And you'll probably hate yourself, at least I did. "Why am I doing this? I hate running. My body sucks. My legs hurt. I'm breathing hard." But guess what, I love it, and I don't even feel my body while I'm running; as soon as I lace up my running shoes I become a separate entity, completely unaware of the pain in my body.

Some people run to let thoughts process and bounce around ideas. I run to stop thinking--I love disconnecting the bedlam of my mind and giving myself completely over to endorphins. Especially when I'm manic. For those of you who don't know, experiencing "mania" as a diagnosed Bipolar can be kind of crazy, and sometimes scary. Don't mind me running at a heart-pounding pace on the treadmill without realizing I'm still there. I sometimes throw up, but you know? I keep going, and my body is numb. I smile because I love it. I love running.

So what's stopping us? Youre not going to die. If you throw up, so what? Your mind stops you, not your heart. So run with your heart---run to the beat of your feet flying up those hills. Because you can!

One of my favorite stories of Bruce Lee:

Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-tow minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a-half minutes per mile].

So this morning he said to me “We’re going to go five.”

I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.”

He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.”

I said “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.”

So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out.

I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run any more,” — and we’re still running — “if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles.

Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, you know, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level."

So what's keeping you from exceeding? This isn't really just about running, but in all things. If you don't constantly try to beat yourself or exceed your own personal echelon, what's the point of anything?

Anyway, I guess in a round-about way I'm trying to say I miss running. I need to get it out of my system tomorrow.