Shameless

It always starts as a soft shuffle. But it always builds. Slowly at first, but consistently. It swells, rising up from my feet until it settles. In my heart. A silent, steady beat crescendos. And an average pulse becomes the impetus for conquering all.

"I cannot name this. I cannot explain this. And I really don't want to. Just call me shameless."

These moments cannot be described. They can only be felt. And they can only be felt by those who dare to push. To prod and poke. Into those layers of oneself that have never had the opportunity to show. To shine.

"I can't even slow this down. Let alone stop this. And I keep looking around. But I cannot top this."

Faster and faster I go. Forging ahead into The Zone. That place where I am simultaneously unaware of anything going on and yet entirely in tune. With my feet. My legs. My butt and hips. My arms and shoulders. My back. My posture. My lungs. My body...

"If I had any sense. I guess I'd fear this. I guess I'd keep it down. So no one would hear this."

Because it doesn't always go this well. And on those days, when failure seems more likely than success, I often wish everyone didn't know about this.

"I guess I'd shut my mouth. And rethink a minute. But I can't shut it now. 'Cuz there's something in it."

The hairs on my arms and neck begin to stand on end. I am warm and cold and hungry and full and thirsty and refreshed. I can't think about anything except that finish line and that clock. Within these minutes I am not afraid of 3:40:59. And within these minutes, I can barely restrain myself from screaming.

"...I got to divide my emotions. Between wrong and right. Then I get to see how close I can get to it. Without giving in. Then I get to rub up against it. Till I break the skin. Rub up against it. Till I break the skin."

I never think about quitting. But I think about backing off. Slowing down. Or making an excuse to settle for something less. But I can't bring myself to do it. Not today! Even though it sometimes starts to hurt. Badly. It sometimes starts to hurt quite often.

"They're gonna be mad at us. They're gonna be mad at me and you. Yeah, they're gonna be mad at us. And all the things we wanna do..."

And so they tell you to take it easy. That you don't have to put yourself through it all. It's not necessary. And it could be bad for you. But it's just because they have never attempted something so big. So difficult. So demanding. Or so empowering. And so rewarding.

I want this. I am not embarrassed by it. "Just call me, Shameless."

-- "Shameless," by Ani DiFranco. From the Album Dilate.

NOTE #1: Yeah, so Ani's interpretation of the song and the one I described above likely don't jive. That's not to say I'm not allowed to apply my interpretations however I chose. Nor is it to say that I've never felt something else when I've listened to this song. In essence, it's just about wanting something so badly and giving into that desire. Who knew giving in could feel so good?

NOTE #2: I decided tonight that I will be running with music at San Diego. Yes, even though there is a band at every mile or so, I'm going to don headphones. If I'm running sub 8:30s I really won't get to hear each band for more than 30-60 seconds, anyway! But since I've received some requests about what music I listen to when I'm running, I promise to publish my Marathon Playlist - "3:40:59 or Bust" - when we get close to the race. In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for some of the important songs that will surely be on that list...