From the first step it went something like this...
Just like Russel, I really really didn't want to keep going. My knee actually did hurt, which only ever happens when my shoes are dead. My legs felt like tree trunks, heavy dead tree trunks. I was tight and fatigued and expected my legs to wake up. The miles passed, and my legs never woke up. I stopped to stretch 4 times, which I never do. I considered calling Leigh to come and pick me up. And as my crowning achievement, I stopped at Tim Horton's to use the bathroom, just so that I could sit down for a few minutes...IT WAS BAD!
|Don't google "Tim Horton's Bathroom." Trust me. source|
By some miracle I slogged the whole way through and finished the 18 miles. I hobbled downstairs to see how Leigh was faring on the treadmill. He of course asked how my run went, and with dramatic flare I told him it was surprisingly, and shockingly, and horrifyingly terrible. His response? "I know, right?!" Seems that I was not alone in the sufferfest. I later learned that Leigh one upped me, not using a potty break as an excuse to sit down, but actually getting off the treadmill to lay down on the basement floor.
Needless to say I was not looking forward to running 12 miles the next day. Without a rest day, I presumed the sufferfest would continue, and that I would have to find me another Tim Horton's with a clean bathroom. Much to my surprise...It was fine. Not stellar, not amazing...But fine.
When it was fine, I got to thinking, isn't that just the same as life. Don't we all have days as spouses, or parents, or employees where we just need to stop at the proverbial Tim Horton's bathroom and sit down for a minute, or get off the treadmill and lay on the basement floor? And then what happens? We do what we have to do, we slog through the challenge, and eventually it's fine. It's not always stellar, or amazing, but it's fine. And sometimes, compared to surprisingly, shockingly, and horrifyingly terrible, fine is pretty darn good.