In the heart of an enormous coloring phase, my son is learning to write his name. He can sit at the dining room table and fill tomes with cock-eyed letters and scribbles of a multitude of working vehicles. Being busy trying to get dinner ready while occupying a one year old, I often leave my son self directed on these coloring binges. The other day I noticed crayon on the wall. When asked how it got there, my son first blamed our fat lazy mutt who apparently has retractable opposable thumbs. Upon further questioning, he blamed it on his one year old sister who would rather eat crayons than color with them.
A child’s lies are easy to spot (depending on how evilly intelligent your kid is…), and while the outcomes are never pleasant, the relationships can often be mended. Unfortunately, when we lie to ourselves, there is no mending, just a silent battle encased in our craniums.
Running – in the adult world – is a relatively solitary sport. Yes, there are races and group runs, club functions and track nights, but gone are the times of the cross country meet when your place mattered even if you did not score. When we train for races as adults, often, we are the only ones holding ourselves culpable.
Over the past month, there has been a war in my brain, with one side convinced April is a long three months off, and training right now is insignificant. Rested, I know which side to take every time. Unfortunately, forty-five minutes into an hour long tempo run, my running-brain is weakened and my lazy-brain pulls out all the stops. Suddenly I will feel a soreness in my hamstring, I hear my shoelace flapping in the wind, my Achilles starts burning. For the most part, these are lies.
Occasionally, I will fool myself into thinking a real problem is a lie, and before I know it I am taking days easy that should have been spent grinding. Over the past four years those undue easy days have become less frequent, but they still happen. My mind and lies might be a bit more convoluted than that of a three-and-a-half year old, but I think I am finally learning my tells.