As I struggle with the ups and downs of life, and assess my record nearing the mid-point of my statistically calculated lifespan I begin to ponder meaning. More to the point "who gives a damn?"
Who really gives a damn that I want to run. That I want to run ultras and good as far as my mind to bully my body into travelling? That while someone may think the piddling distances I run in training are arduous for some, those miles are a drop in the bucket to the spans I dream of covering?
You know you gives a damn? Me. I am the only person I have to please in all of this. I run to feel spent. I run to process the emotions and disconnect from the mental stresses. I run today so I can live a little easier tomorrow.
There is not sponsorship to earn. There is no prize money to win. There is no product to push.
The only thing I have to push is my ass out the door and down whatever path I choose to follow.
Some days I do feel like Superman, with the alter ego. Off road I am the guy that gets little right. Lots of "give a damns" to resolve. Too many at times. And most with piss poor results. Then get me on the streets with running shorts and shoes and nothing but my own energy stores to slow me down. Anything is possible, even with a shit knee or busted toe. Oh to hell with Superman. I feel like King Kong!
So when I threaten to skip a run or even pass on some cross-training bullshit I need to ask myself "who the hell cares?"
"And why should I give a damn? What does it really matter in the long term?"
Only my health and happiness and stability are at stake. Other than that it is not a big deal.