stride

I have heard for years the phrase, "hitting one's stride", but never gave it any thought.  It meant that the person had found the best way to do whatever was to be done.  This was, of course, before I ran to impose a sense of control over my body (and my mind).  It was as I was fighting the process  for the second day in a row that the origin of the phrase actually aha'd me!  In the normal course of the self-flagellating exercise called running, I usually suck big time (and I mean that literally) during the first 8/10ths of a mile.  My mind is fighting my body.  My body is fighting nature.  Gravity is winning on both accounts.  But then, my mind shifts from "Oh my god how I hate this" to anything else, and the breathing eases, the pain diminishes, and the effort becomes more second-nature.  Truly mind over matter.  But yesterday and today, it just didn't happen.  No one threw the switch.  The mind didn't wander from "crap!  crap!  crap!" and I discovered that my mind was spending all its time reverting to heredity.  (That would be German, stubborn!)  I only finished because I could, not because I wanted to.  Actually, that sounds wrong.  I really wanted to be finished, but I didn't want to submit to quitting before the length to be covered was covered!  I never hit my stride.  But here's the amazing thing.  I continued.  I persevered.  And I swore like a sailor!  I then decided running was a lot like living.  It takes a while to be comfortable.  When "in the groove", life is pretty amazing.  When things don't go exactly as they should, a little stubborn "stick-to-itiveness" will pull you through to the end of the day.  And as Scarlett O'Hara says, tomorrow "is another day"!  Of course, it's supposed to be 20 degrees below zero with a feels like temp of -50, so I think maybe I'll stride to the couch and watch a movie tomorrow!  Now, that's hitting it!  Know you are loved!