Agony Without Ecstacy

Running - even the challenge of long distance running - is usually a pleasant activity. Millions of enthusiastic runners worldwide attest to the benefits of the sport. Two weeks ago I posted pictures from a particularly enjoyable outing along my favorite route to Kannonzaki, complete with great weather, picturesque views, an inspirational sighting of Mt. Fuji, and overall runner's high. I recall tacking on an extra mile just to prolong that euphoria.


Sometimes, albeit rarely, a particular run just doesn't work out. Yesterday along the same favorite route I found myself feeling anything but euphoric as I staggered home at the end with my whole body screaming in agony.


I had carefully planned my 22-mile route, only to suffer what runner's variously refer to as "bonk", "tank", or "the wall" at mile 16, still six miles from home. I was just beyond Kannonzaki and very ready to be done with it. Except the only reasonable way to get home from there is by foot or hitchhiking (which I've never seen in Japan, and I would be too embarrassed to do). So I had no choice but to continue running...or more accurately run-walk-hobbling. Those last six miles turned into the most painful I've ever experienced during a run. And since it took me well over an hour to cover the distance, I had plenty of time to reflect on the pre-flight errors in judgment (i.e., lessons learned) that clearly set me up for the bonk: 1) Allowing work stress and cold weather to be excuses for not running during the week; 2) Eating badly throughout the week; 3) Not enough rest during the week, and especially the night before; 4) Not taking proper nourishment before or during the run; 5) Overdressing for the weather; 6) Not replacing depleted electrolytes. In brief: Too overconfident from my last long run.


Nevertheless, whatever agony I suffered was self-imposed. No one forced me to attempt a long run yesterday. I chose to do so. How many people on this earth suffered incomprehensible agony yesterday that was not of their choosing, and beyond their control? Gruesome visions of Haiti immediately came to mind. Victims of other natural and man-made disasters. Wounded warriors. Prisoners of war. Political prisoners of rogue states. Victims of chronic disease and terminal illness. Not to mention the millions with emotional anguish who suffer in intense silence, their pain unbeknownst even to those who are closest to them.


Weighed against that manner of suffering, which exists every day and often afflicts the totally innocent, my runner's bonk seems - and is - inconsequential...except to remind me never to take anyone's suffering lightly.


And how ironic that earlier in the course of the run my iPod played the score from "Jesus Christ Superstar," from which I gained perspective of one totally innocent who suffered deliberately for a far greater cause than finishing a marathon.