Run the risk — confessions of a Kamikaze runner
I’m sore, contortioned in my seat and really, really need to pee but locked in by sleeping strangers in endless rows on the plane. In one breath I take a gigant leap over the man to my right and move really slow through the plane to the lavatory. In the move I unfold my limbs, I stretch my arms and yawn — and in a light placebo moment massage that place where my hip meets my legs — to pretend its helps my muscles ease and relax.
I’m sore in my body and soft in my mind.
I just ran The 2016 NYC Marathon a bit more than a week ago with 51000 other people. Per usual I just did it on a cocktail of will power, closed eyes & expectance of energy — not much else — kamikaze.
I motivate my self like this but of course with the risk of complete failure.
In fact its been a label I’ve had the six years I’ve been running. Kamikaze runner. I’ve learned that to make a race — any race — elevate from ‘a big deal’ to ‘bigger than life’ you need to risk something. And right here writing that sentence I think that pretty much is the answer to everything in life — but hey now lets stay running.
Either you spend a lot of time training. It is definitely a wild discovery in risking your mind, body and soul in rigorous training — I love it, I am bad at keeping it going — but I love it. I wrote a friend in the blank spot time leading up to the race “I miss the pain” — The pain of running around circling in on myself and conquering her and time.
But on the other side I do find something thrilling in surpacing my own capabilities without knowing if it’s even possible.
NYC Marathon was filled to the rim with consistency, stamina and dedication. I know so many — hard working runners. I feed from their energy.
On the kamikaze quests I close my eyes and cash in on the pure and by now pretty basic expectance of being able to open my eyes anywhere, at anytime and run 26 miles or more if I want to. It got me from 8miles to 20miles to 60miles — I’ll never say no, always try.
My kamikaze self runs in parallel with ambition — one does not out run the other. But I’d be gone baby gone if all I had was another constant point of pressure in my life — It needs to balance out, push and pull.
And above it all floats that thought of ‘anything is possible’. Like a Ying and Yang — ambitions and impromptu running feeds each other. That’s where it has gotten me — to a point where the kamikaze-like adventures, dictated by a busy life and sidelined by it too, has indeed become a slow working high stake dopamine injection to my running life — and ambitions and goals too.
What’s next ?
In the lavatory I look myself in the mirror — hair all over the place, mascara on my cheek. “you did it” — a little forced but honest smile appears — its a longer story, of course I was unsure if I could go through with it — but I did. I close my eyes and breathe really deep, flights makes me emotional, more than marathons, the combo sends me to a flux between ‘a big deal’ and the immense ‘bigger than life’.
I crossed the finishline with a new breath of air — the race in all its spactacle was just another eternal startline for enthusiasm.