Run

So I've been reading Aron Ralston's memoir 'Between A Rock And A Hard Place'. It's the story of the guy who went hiking and became trapped when a boulder pinned his arm against a canyon wall, leaving him stranded alone in the dessert with very little water and food and almost no chance of survival. Of course he does survive, by doing something most of can't imagine ever being able to do: he amputates his own arm with a small multi-tool blade. Before I started reading the book I knew how it ended. I had heard the story and have watched the film based on the event, '127 Hours'. It's a fascinating story, not just because of what Aron was able to do to survive but because of the kind of person he is. The kind of person who, even while trapped, reasons that if he looses a hand and survives that he'll still be able to go rock climbing. Not the kind who thinks 'Wow, never doing this again, I'm staying indoors for the rest of my life!'. No. The kind who is comforted with the thought that he'll be able to keep doing what got him trapped in the first place, because he loves it, and do it with one less hand. Amazing.

In the book, Aron recounts the many adventures that led him to go hiking and canyoning on that fateful/memorable day. From moving to Colorado as a young boy and discovering the great outdoors, to nearly drowning in the river of the Grand Canyon, to getting caught in an avalanche, his adventurous spirit leaps from the pages. While racing a friend along a mountain trail and feeling his lungs burn and rebel against the high altitude, he writes, 'I never knew it could feel so good to hurt so much.'

I love adventures and being athletic yet seem to skim around the edges of really being either one. I go running, but have only ever done one 5k and a unique vertical run in my life. Both had elements of strong discomfort. The 5k took place in February when it was cold, along a course with such muddy patches that people were loosing shoes, if not falling down altogether. The vertical run had participants run up 31 flights of stairs: as I anticipated, the first 10 weren't bad at all, but around flight 20 I was gasping harder than I could ever recall, and had begun to see black spots. More than telling myself to keep going I took up the mantra, 'Don't pass out'. Yet the exhilarating feeling at the end of both runs was incredibly worth it. The accomplishment, especially done with friends, was euphoric.

I can't help thinking, 'Aron Ralston could have done those runs in his sleep'. Recalling my burning lungs and pounding heart is humbling. I have a long ways to go. But thinking of what I could do if I really push myself is invigorating. People say that you should do things that scare you. Aron said it can feel good to hurt. I agree, and I want it to be a reminder. Scary, potentially painful things aren't things I generally look for. But they can be good things none the less. Good things in unexpected places.