I haven’t been posting much lately, but an idea has been percolating since I read The Oatmeal’s amazing comic The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances (which if you haven’t read yet, click on that link now, then come back) on Monday morning. It’s a great comic that really describes why I run (and I’m sure why many of us run), but something about it nagged at my brain.
Just like Matt I’m running from “The Blerch.” I’ve been running from the 300 lb kid I was in High School and early college for a long time, but I’m not that kid anymore, and that kid isn’t coming back. Sure I have my ups and downs and lazy periods (I’m sure we all do) , but in the end I’m gonna get out and run, not out of fear of my old self returning, but because I have goals that I want to achieve. I want to qualify for Boston, I want to feel in full control of my body, I want to challenge myself to always move forward.
Sure, The Blerch will always be there, as a glimpse of myself in the mirror with a body I’m not happy about, an occasion of self-doubt, an excuse for laziness or a lapse in willpower, but that part of me doesn’t define me. I am a husband, an actor, a personal trainer (in training) and a runner (among many other things), not a Blerch. The weakness in my past doesn’t define me, I define (and redefine) myself through my actions every day.
I’m a big comic book geek, and recently I came across Adam Thompson’s “Heroic Words Of Wisdom“, basically a bunch of inspirational quotes from superhero comics. One of them, the one for The Flash (The Fastest Man Alive!), describes the mentality I work to have both as a runner:
I might not always have the clearest path towards my goal, but as long as I work towards that goal, I’m outrunning my Blerch, and I don’t have to pay him any mind.