Someone asked me why I do it.
Why run for so many hours straight? Surely at some point, a line is crossed where it isn’t fun anymore? Why not just run for fun?
I tried to explain.
It is fun. I mean not circus clown, helium balloon, ice cream cone, bouncy castle, giggle and laugh fun. More like stretch limits, sweat hard, question sanity, reach exhaustion, ache after sort of fun.
That answer sure didn’t make sense.
Well sometimes there’s giggling-fun. Like when you’re so tired that you’re a bit delirious, and the fact that you’ve named a dead skunk “Wayne” to make it less gross seems so hilarious that you laugh uncontrollably until you have to stop laughing so you can catch your breath so you don’t pass out sort of fun.
That still didn’t cut it.
Well then there’s the part afterward where you stretch, and debrief, and get cleaned up so you feel human again, and settle back with a coffee and a carb-protein snack to refuel. That’s really fun.
While that made a little more sense, the question became, why run to exhaustion before you can enjoy coffee and a snack?
I gave up.
The truth is, if a person is asking these sorts of questions, there is no adequate answer.
It can’t be explained, it has to be experienced.
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