It’s 7:10 in the morning, and my running group is just getting started. The temperature is about 45 degrees, and it’s overcast without the premonition of rain; in other words, it’s perfect running weather. I’ve had a good night’s sleep and a quick cup of coffee. I’m happily anticipating a pretty solid run; my training is on-schedule for a half marathon in December. I’m pretty sure I’m going to tackle the hills with enthusiasm and feel strong on the flats.
Except that my run turns out lousy. I feel decent but not spritely for the first three miles and capable but not robust on the hilly, woodsy portion at miles four and five. Then I feel like poop, and I still have another five miles to go. I have that moody, low-carbohydrate, all-over-body drain thing going on. My legs feel increasingly tight, and my stride shortens. I start to plod.
I’m dispirited. I had a formula that predicted an inspiring and energetic outing. My week was full of easy runs with a track workout on Wednesday. I was well-rested and motivated. But the actuality of my run didn’t nearly meet the anticipation of it.
Which, come to think of it, is the way life is.
I wish I had a nickel for every event that didn’t live up to my expectations. I’ve hosted family dinners where I fantasized about sitting with my guests and having absorbing conversations – only to spend the entire time in the kitchen. I’ve planned stunning vacations with a young family – only to have them eclipsed by offspring discontent and fighting. I’ve had court appearances where I was well-prepared and confident – only for the judge to see my case completely differently. I spent a small fortune on a gorgeous home remodel – only to have it leave me completely cold when I was done.
But the reverse has been true as well. I’ve attended business social events that I approached with more than a little annoyance and met wonderfully engaging people. I’ve viewed weekend chore lists with resentment only to find the tasks energizing and uplifting. I’ve had deeply engrossing conversations with my husband that had somewhat grumpy and resentful origins. I once had an adult child unexpectedly confide in me while running routine errands.
I’ve started runs in the rain and cold, feeling stiff and aggravated. But somewhere along the way, my stride became strong and fluid, my mind was transformed by energy and promise, and my heart unfolded with joy and gladness. Running, like living, is not ever really knowing what is just around the corner. The challenge is enjoying the anticipation without it becoming a yardstick that measures the outcome. Expectations set us up for disappointment, and they diminish the delight in the unforeseen.
So, I’m planning a ten-mile run for next weekend. I’ll start while it is cold, dark, and windy after a poor night’s sleep. I’ll probably be nursing a tweak in my shoulder and maybe the hint of a sore throat. Voila! The law of averages will catch up to me, and it will be fabulous!