Inferno Flashbacks

Summertime in the Old Pueblo.

Need I say more? 

Hot. Very, very hot. Excruciatingly hot. Overwhelmingly hot. Unbearably hot. 

I said more anyway.

Inferno-esq, if you will.

It's rough to train out here in this heat. It does however, make you tougher. That's the goal I guess, to get tougher. Yesterday I got home from work and went on a run. It was a scorching 105 degrees and windy. It felt like I was running against a blow dryer. Good times.

As I was fighting through each step, the heat penetrating each pore, my mind began to harass me;

Stop. 

Quit.

Turn around. 

You're an idiot. 

Asshole.

Only a fool would be out here right now! 

While all of these obstacles were flashing through my mind I began to think about my life. That's right, as I was suffering through the immense heat, I began to think about my life. My life has had it's fair share of pain, the majority of it being self-induced.

When people ask me why I run, I respond, "if you have to ask me why, then you'll never understand." And it's true. But when I ask myself the same question, the answer is quite clear. Because it saved my life.

I didn't choose to move to Tucson, my parents handed me a one way ticket and said, and I quote, "this is the last thing we are going to do for you. Good luck." I had used up all my 'get outta jail free cards' and the gig was up. My time in Albuquerque was over and it was time to try something different.

This isn't my life story, so I choose to leave out most of the hideous details of my checkered background. I'll save that for my autobiography. I found my "rock bottom" in Tucson, which turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. I still go drive by that abandoned house on Grant and Oracle from time to time just to keep that memory fresh.

Time after time I would put my life back together but was always left with a void inside of me. Inevitably, I would have another bout of insanity, leaving me clueless to as why my life was torn apart again. There was an emptiness enveloping my soul that I couldn't explain. I felt doomed. 

I've always run. I ran as a child. I ran in high-school. I ran when I was a dead beat drunk in my twenties. I ran away. I ran. So when my older sister, Ariana (who also enjoys running), asked if I wanted to go run a half marathon with her, I was all in. 

Although I had done a lot of running, I had never really trained for anything. 13.1 miles sounded completely insane but I wanted to do this. And so I began to run with a purpose. I became obsessed with this goal and it was life changing. Literally.

From the very beginning of my training I became aware of how much better I felt physically and emotionally. I was getting in shape and had a purpose. For the first time, maybe ever, I had a goal. I had something I was working towards. More than 3 years have passed since I began training and I have never stopped working towards that goal. And I never will. 

On October 17, 2009 I participated in my first race, The Kansas City Half Marathon. Ariana and myself both completed the race and it was a remarkable experience. I was mesmerized by the entire scene. The atmosphere surrounding the race was simply beautiful. I had found my calling and I was home. I guess I can say that my sister has a lot to do with the life I lead today. So thank you, Ariana, you are a great sister. I must add, my parents continue to help me and "the last thing we will ever do for you" was the greatest gift I could have received. 

I have run in countless races and put in thousands of miles since that day. I have run down roads and up mountains. In the cold and in the heat. I love this life. I truly love this life. So maybe all the pain I endured during those lonely days was merely preparation for the life I run today? I can handle the heat and the suffering, the cold and the soreness. I am alive and I'm training for life.

There were days I couldn't even get out of bed to leave my apartment because I was paranoid and sick. Now I am preparing to run my first 100 mile race, The Javelina Jundred in October. It is a bit overwhelming to think about. Bold contrast. 

100 miles. 

On foot. 

Raise the bar. 

Push the envelope.

KC Half Marathon w/ Ariana- 10/17/09