Last night I came home from work and immediately went out running: 3.88 miles, according to The Machines. No music, just my head.
I am intrinsically lazy. (I sat on my ass all day at work). I shy away from cold. (I ran in shorts, shirt, and hoodie and was hot). I give myself permission to stop after a modest effort. (I ran one loop and would usually have quit, but I kept going and ran a second).
It’s important to tell the truth about yourself. Then you have a place to start: a foundation of reality. If I acknowledge that I’m lazy I then know what I must do. If I know that I use weather as an excuse, I know what to do.
Tell the truth about yourself, to yourself. Hold nothing back. From that starting point, glory is possible.
During the run, I formulated my life’s aim. Who am I striving to be? There is no finish line in life, so everything — EVERYTHING — is necessarily incomplete. Live with it. Yet everything, by understanding this, is necessarily always complete.
My aim? To be able to look at myself, inwardly, and know that I am a monster, a beast, a savage. Not in the moral sense, but in the sense of determination and action, whether I win or lose, succeed or fail.
Running the loops last night, I knew I was that beast. I gave double the effort, ending my night with wobbly legs and dizzy head. I had to walk around for a few minutes before going inside.
I am that beast. Right now. Some day instead of 3.88 miles it might be 38.8 miles. Will I attack that run with the same determination that I attacked 3.88? Fuck, yes. Giving it all I have, always, shows that I am a beast.
Acknowledging the truth about myself gave me all of that.