What Good Is Having a Lucky Horesshoe Anyway?

 
April 21, 2013

Today I am 192.6 pounds of rolling thunder.

Author Josh Stern connected with me recently on Twitter. You've got to like a guy whose wit and wisdom is encapsulated in a thought like, "In a scam or be scammed world, the best that can be hoped for is to land on top a little more than hitting rock bottom. But what good is having a lucky horseshoe up your butt when the horse is still attached?"

 All this harkens back to the old notion that sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes he eats you.

Yesterday for the first time in a long time, I ate the bear. I hit the streets and only took one walking break along my 5-mile route -- and even that break was two-thirds of the way up the first big hill.

Yep, I managed -- with the help of some stoplight breaks -- to make it up the steep hill, over numerous short climbs and then up the final big hill that is usually the test of my physical and mental fitness.

 I'd like to be able to say that I push this, pull that or stretch something and then the light turns green, and I am able to run without pause. If that were the case, I could bottle and sell the formula to all of us couch to 5K heroes.

But alas, this is not the case.

For all I know this has as much to do with getting back out on the streets as it does having a lucky horseshoe -- horse optional -- located somewhere in my nether-regions.

What I do know is there is something profoundly satisfying in cresting a hill, regardless of how slight the rise, and being able to flow back down on the other side without feeling a winded tightness in my chest or a stride-breaking fatigue in my legs.

The other thing I know is that I'm going to accept the day's run with graciousness and hope. Sometimes it feels like you'll never make a weight goal, or a distance goal and then you surprise yourself. You have to remember these feeling when you fall back, and they will guide you along the path until your next victory, no matter how large or small.

So hopefully today I can run more like I have a spring in my step than a horseshoe, well, you know where.

And if you see the world's slowest human out on the road, give me a wave. I'll be the one without the horse but ready to eat some bear.