A few days ago I was relishing in glory of my newly found calf pain after running in my old shoes. I rallied on and on about how excited I was to have triggered my fast twitch muscles for the first time in years. It was glorious!
Well, the masochist in me is rejoicing louder than before because my calves feel like I have two squirrels nesting in my flesh. I haven’t been this sore since my first day of Pop Warner football practice. It reminds me of a cramp I got jumping out of the pool after 4,000 meters one night. I’m nearly immobile!
The Zen Master inside of me is whispering, “A life without pain is a life un-lived” while the practical priest is imploring me to get my dumb ass on a massage table. The life of direct apprehension is never a picnic.
But we press on because difficult decisions seem to be the backbone of life. If Ironman was easy, everyone would do it. Come to think of it, if life were easy, everyone would do it.