Category: 
If yesterday was all about enjoying torture, today was the beginning of my journey into masochism: I’m enjoying running-induced pain in some strange, twisted kind of manner. The challenge of pushing yourself beyond what you thought you were able to do results in an odd kind of addiction to physical discomfort.
A slight digression: I have flat feet. Well, they’re actually technically “excessively pronated” as opposed to flat, but your run-of-the-mill foot fetishist will probably not know the difference. Having lived with that all my life, I do know the difference, and has played a large part in my reluctance to do something like running. As it turns out, in order to not completely screw up your feet, you really do need shoes that cater to whether or not you have an arch, whether you pronate or supinate, and whether you have a low or high volume foot. Most shoe stores don’t even know how the fuck to spell pronate, let alone anything about providing shoes that cater to the orthotically challenged. Day 2 of “How To Enjoy Torture” started with a trip to a specialty running store so that I could get some real running shoes. I am now the proud owner of a pair of Mizuno Wave Nirvana running shoes.
What a difference - they actually feel comfortable on my feet; something that I’m decidedly unfamiliar with.
Appropriately armed and dangerous, I thought that it would behoove me to try to once again not slow down dearest significant other too much while out on a slow training run. This one was 3.55 miles, and the first half of it actually wasn’t all that bad. We probably went out faster than I should have, but Mr. I’ve-no-sense-of-appropriate-pace had no clue that he was about to come horribly unglued. And thus began my descent into masochism…
Yes, dear reader, you read that correctly. I am now a certified masochist. I was in pain for about half of the run. I could barely shuffle along for the last part of it, and I even had to stop to stretch out some ligament that I previously had no idea even existed. It had nothing to do with me being unable to get enough oxygen - that actually wasn’t a problem at all - but it rather had everything to do with pain, suffering and cramped muscles and ligaments. I make no pretenses of actually being a capable runner (which is why it was only 3 1/2 miles as opposed to some real distance), but I do think I’ve joined the NH League of Masochists and achieved minor celebrity status.
You see, I enjoyed it. Yes, I actually had fun inflicting unspeakable unpleasantnesses on my physical being.
The most frustrating thing was experiencing my legs not doing what I was telling them to do, and even though I was battling leaden lumps that had magically managed to substitute themselves for limbs, it was still a good experience, and I can’t wait to do it again.
Common sense tells me that I should take a day off from running, but when Wednesday rolls around, I’m hoping to be back pounding asphalt and cementing my position in the NHLM.
