Team Lucca

Every cell in my body wished for sleep this morning. The dreams were sweet, the bed was warm and early as it was, I could tell it was or had been raining. Yet the damn internal alarm that goes off around a quarter to five each morning, beckoned me to get up and get going, along with a compeling guilt that someone just might be waiting for me soon, out there in the dark.

Our team meets at five thirty every wednesday for an early morning run along the river. So it was, I summoned the will to dress warmly and go. Both Phoebe and Kaitlin arrived soon and off we went into the rainy, muddy morning. Usually this is my favorite run of the week. I love the freedom of running in the dark while knowing there are others out there ahead of me, behind me but always within a shout away. I love watching the sun rise over the city. I love the cold, the wind, the rain whatever element the morning throws our way.
This day though, I find every reason to not want to run. I only run one measly little mud puddled mile before I call it quits and tell Kaitlin and Pheebs, I will see them Saturday.
These two troopers continue on without me.

It is funny that the calling of self in my internal dialogue recently changed from "Kid", as in "good job kid" or "that was just great kid" to "Good God Women" as in "Good God women, you can do much better than that". So it is that once home, I sit waiting for the sun to rise so that I can really go out and torture myself with speed work.

There is a tiny little forest close to our home and close enough to civilization that I feel safe. It is shaped like a track and quite perfect for running intervals.

The first time around I am shocked, as always, how difficult my breathing can become and how quickly so. Almost like I can't breath fast enough. One breath rolling over the other with a raspy gasp filled catch at the end of each.

I think of a running advertisement I saw recently, of some nice looking runner guy, stating that being able to hear his every labored breath, reminds him he is alive. During this moment of effort, this makes me laugh, as I sound more like I am dying.

I think of breaths at the beginning of life, emotion filled when both my sons first shouted out to the world. I think of the four last days each, I spent with both mom and dad where all I had to listen to was their every breath. I remember my sweet auntie, who is a Catholic nun saying, "this is your mother's last breath on earth and first breath into eternity".

The second time around I begin to think I am crazy for doing this as it really is hard and I kind of already feel like throwing up. Then there's that crazy lady voice shouting loudly inside my mind, "Good God women what the heck are you doing this for?, what are you trying to prove? to who? where? why?"

The third time around I decide I do not like the Good God Women so much and will go back to being the kid. So with that I think of one of my historical heros, Alexander and how as a young man he was schooled and trained in Sparta, a Greek city state of warriors where life was molded by subsiding on as little as possible and pushing the physical self to the limit. I think of the Native American culture and how young men and women were initiated into adulthood by enduring a trial of hardship. I think of a friend I love dealing with cancer. I think of the Rolling Stones song, "You can't always get what you want".

I think that as a society we need more self discipline. I always think I need more self discipline.

I try so hard not to judge others especially someone I have never met and by the likes of sometimes what could be inaccurate media spins. But I am disappointed with Tiger Woods. Really Tiger? You needed to go there? I understand power and seduction and all those things but to be that high up in our collective minds and fall this far, this fast. Crazy! What was he thinking?

I believe that forcing myself through this lap and the next and the next, is just a little reminder of how hard life often is and how in an imposing way, acts of discipline condition us to deal well with life. I try to focus on the post hardship salvation of a sort, that makes us wiser and perhaps a better person.

I also wonder if all this really will make me a faster runner. I settle on somehow knowing maybe it is just good for the soul. The need to push through time and time again whether bored, exhausted, burnt out, disillusioned, physically challenged - will surface again and again in our lives. To come out each time with a kind of peace and understanding that we have survived once again, is in its own sacred way, a testament to the worthiness of our every breath.

Talk about self discipline, coming very soon Joanne's remarkable telling of her time in Cozumel doing an IronMan triathlon.

Will be posted very soon also, I promise.

Time and date of 2010 Team Lucca meeting
What to look forward to -
* T Lucca training, walking, running, cycling, big races. little races, big goals and small with Emily and myself

* Craig's pick for a Team Lucca Cycling event

* JoAnne and Tri Training