Counting seconds

I ran that half-marathon today. Realistically I thought I'd get 2:20, which is a little more than half of my full marathon time from '08. In a perfect world and by some miracle, I'd hoped to get under 2. I made the decision to urinate part-way into the race, just so I wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable the whole time, because there's discomfort enough. It brought me 44 seconds away from the miraculous, a mere stream in the great flow of time. 

And not to diminish the good fortune of completing the race. Running offers powerful lessons about the mind, and practice in the way of mindfulness. 

If you think too much about what's ahead, your spirit flags, and you see how directly your thoughts can sap your energy. To stave off this leaching of vital energy, you have to focus only on each step and allow each step to be all that matters. The mind leaps into that space throwing up new distractions, and you keep repeating to yourself that only running counts.

But let's not be false under the cover of being pedantic. Really, running a lot is just a perfect excuse to eat bacon, with impunity. I had fried food twice today, bitches.