Defeat: a feat in of itself

The human spirit is never finished when it is defeated. It is finished when it surrenders." - Ben Stein

My success last weekend has been tempered by a particularly dreadful run today. It took everything I had just to get out of my apartment - a full hour late. First I had to respond to a series of frantic emails in my inbox, then I couldn't find my key, and the moment I finally was ready to go, my cat decided to knock down a pitcher of water across the living room floor. A lovely start, to be sure ...

Even though I was running seriously behind schedule, I decided to try and get my full run in anyway. This had less to do with inner determination and personal motivation and more to do with the two checks I had in my pocket that desperately needed to be deposited. So I took off in the direction of my bank. Little did I know that the slight intestinal grumblings of my stomach this morning would have major implications for my run. By the time I had gotten to the bank I was seriously uncomfortable. But with my only other option being a trip to the sketchy public subway restrooms, I decided to just run home. Easier said then done. For some reason, I could not for the life of me find the route I took to get home! I wandered around for 20 minutes before stumbling across the obscure side road that had been my route. I've always been skeptical of the constant influx of new gadgets and high-tech devices that promote dependency and rampant consumerism, but at that moment I really wanted one of those GPS "aps" on my cell phone. Alas, all my flimsy phone is capable of is telling time and making phone calls...

Anyway, now running an hour and half behind, with my pace seriously impaired due to stomach cramps and completely drained of all my artificially optimistic standbys, all I was thinking about was how defeated I felt. It didn't help that by the time I got home, I was in such a rush to shower and get ready for my TAship that I missed my bus and ended up walking the entire way in less-than-ideal walking shoes.

By the time I got home at 4:30, I felt entirely defeated by the misfortune of my day. It wasn't until about 20 minutes or so into my pity party that I started to realize that even though my day felt defeating, I had not actually been defeated. I had, in fact, finished my run. I even added an extra mile and a half by walking to campus. And even though the day did not play out like I had so carefully planned it in my head, I still accomplished every task that I had set out to do. Even as my mind was ready to give up on today, my body just kept going, reminding me once again that my limbs and my lungs are far more powerful than my conscious mind gives them credit for. What felt to me like defeat and hopelessness, was actually strength and endurance. Funny how it is so easy to confuse the two categories. So perhaps instead of lamenting my own bad luck, I can learn to use this "crappy day" to appreciate my own body's capacity to reach beyond my own goals and find something more meaningful than I could have thought to imagine. Who knows? Maybe four miles of running/walking discomfort today will eventually give me the strength I need to finish the first mile of my first 5k, or someday even that last mile of a marathon. Someday.