2006-02-15 - 7:32 p.m.
as i was running the other day, i started wondering why i feel the most alive when i am in pain. not that there is a direct correlation, but it is definitely a real relationship. why, when i am most participating in the world, do i feel pain? this is not only true of physical exertion, but of most other things, as well. why does beauty make us cry? why does intense pleasure, such as i am told is involved in sex, involve a kind of pain?
should real life hurt? and, in fact, if it does not hurt, should we wonder why? is it possible that reality should be something like an open wound... and the pain is actually a good sign, as it indicates that we are still alive and coherent? perhaps it's when we stop hurting that we should worry...
anyway, as i was thinking these things, with my feet pounding on the hard ground beneath me and my heart pounding a hard rhythm in my chest, i passed "the line" that all runners understand. when you first start running, it feels terrible, so bad that most people stop after the first few miles. but the trick that runners know is that there is a secret password that your body says to itself somewhere around the fourth mile that switches all that pain into joy. all of the sudden, you feel like you're not really attached to the earth anymore and whatever pain was there, doesn't matter anymore. i know, it sounds silly if you've never been there, but my point is this: i had forgotten that transition existed - all i remembered was pain. the exhilleration caught me off guard and made me laugh at my previous thoughts.
so perhaps i was half right, but the trick is endurance. if you keep going, there is a point of grace, a moment when it ceases to be pain and becomes something else...
and on that note, everyone should see "run lola run" - it is not identical to my story, but similar in so far as it entails running and grace.
