I'm describing the calendar it in such detail because I don't think many people have bought or used a wall calendar since the advent of computers. I mean, why would you use a wall calendar when we get calendars pre-loaded on every piece of hardware that we buy? Digital calendars aren't even limited by year; they can go on for as long as you want to keep planning things.
Anyway, the habit I mentioned. I put an "X" on the date of any day that I run. It's gratifying to put a new X up, and it's also quite satisfying, if I've run a lot any given month, to see all those "X's" lined up in neat rows and columns just below a pretty picture of Scotland. But just this morning, as my pen was poised to X another date, I thought about what was the most challenging run out of all those "X's."
You might predict the last run in a long, unbroken string of X's was the hardest. And while yes, after several days of running, the runs get a little harder, I don't remember any spectacular difficulty during the final runs before a break. Likewise, I could not remember difficulty based on any one day's conditions; the burning hot, frigid cold, cloyingly humid, or swan-infested runs get lost in time soon after they're completed.
But you know what runs I do remember? Those X's that come after a day or two without running. I remember them because I remember the days preceding that run. There's almost never a good, happy reason to miss a run. I was sick, I was lazy, I was mildly injured - it's never something dramatic, but it's always something I remember.
|Okay, one time it was something dramatic.|
Filling in those X's following a break is the most difficult because removing running from my daily activities removes a huge source of confidence and validation. I know running doesn't serve the same function for everyone, but for me it's a sign that I'm moving forward in my life.
Also, though less symbolic, no running means no boost of happy, active endorphins on a daily basis. After enough days running, you might become so used to that chemical boost that you don't notice the good it does, but remove it for a couple of days and it can hit you hard.
I begin to feel down without exercise, and that, in turn, makes it harder to get back on the horse and run again. It's the second worst cycle I have to watch out for as a runner, the first being a literal cyclist who seems to be playing a game with me called, "look at how close I can pass this runner without actually making contact."
|He doesn't always win.|
|Okay, I might know what I'd do without it.|