So I’m driving down the road the other day, when our dear friend and Mr N of 1 himself, Tony Bruno calls me. I don’t take the call. I’ve just set out for another trip to Costco with my youngest, to get a few Christmas presents for his brothers, and a few groceries. Despite having got my run in, my mind is ping ponging around a bit. I’m not gonna be the exuberant conversationalist that I aspire to be. On the plus side, the sun is actually shining. “let me get back to you in a bit, I’m busy at the moment”, I texted him. By busy, I mean, a bit bogged down. Most of us are likely runners here, so I’ll speak in runners’ terms. If you can imagine that feeling after a great race, when your head is pulsating with endorphins, the music is playing, the sun is shining, you have all these great ideas running through your head. ‘I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do that’, you’re centered, you may have even had beer or two, your game is on. Take all of those great feelings and reverse it. That’s how I feel. Its a subtle sense of complacency with just a hint of motivational meh. December is a weird month for me, January and February are usually about the same, maybe compounded a bit. I won’t call it the D word, I think most of it is rooted in the lack of sunshine, ill brush upon that in just a few. November is like the peak. We get some great cool weather, Pittsburgh usually gets a decent amount of sun, the leaves are bright and the air has that invigorating Fall smell. November means I’m gearing up for my big year end fitness challenge, the JFK fifty miler, the miles are clicking off, a years worth of racing and training is about to culminate into one big crescendo. Then December hits. I haven’t run more than 10-12 miles in weeks, the days are short, the sky is grey, its cold, and basically, I’m Blah. I look at the oodles of Christmas lights that people put up and compare it to a non runner questioning how we runners do these ultra distances. I can’t even get motivated to plug in the one spotlight that goes in our front yard. ‘How do they find the motivation and the will to do all that work’, I wonder. With all this said, i will note, I still get out for my runs.
So I do call Tony back, just a few minutes later, minutes before I get to Costco.
“Are you calling to harass me for my JFK race report” I ask him. I’d message Tony not
long ago and said I was working on the post race wrap up and I’d get it to him soon as possible. At the time of writing this, I’ve yet to get him that report. because again,
motivation is lying somewhere beneath the last blanket of fallen leaves. “No” he says.. “I was just finishing a couple miles on the treadmill and I needed some inspiration/motivation” he says. “my brother was busy and I thought ‘I’ll call Brett Mason”.
Although he doesn’t realize it, but it was the kind of thing I needed to hear amidst my
slightly complacent, serotonin challenged state of mind. ‘You mean when it got tough, he thought to call me’. I like to believe that when I’m feeling good, my passions show through enough, I’ve worked hard enough, that perhaps, I could be the guy to call to get one through those last few miles of a long treadmill grind. Ironically enough, at mile 42 of the JFK fifty miler this past November, I was that guy. I was the guy who was yelling
to the younger guys beside me, just before cresting that steep hill, to the final rolling
road section of the race. “lets get this shit done, lets go, lets go, we’re getting there now, lets fuck it up!”, I screamed to these guys. I like to be that guy, screaming those sentiments not only helps fire others up, but it helps fire me up as well. Your mind will scream the damnedest things to you during an ultra. That’s the battle, shutting it up, learning how to control this internal dialogue. Screaming back and showing those tired legs who’s in charge. That’s how you get through it, that’s how you perform. that how you finish.
December and the subsequent months are the ultra. My mind is screaming at me. “its dark, its cold, you haven’t run a race since JFK, you’re not making any money, why
aren’t you selling any artwork. What it really is, is wanting everything to be perfect. To
suffer is to desire, to eliminate suffering you must eliminate desire. Its just the simple
truth. You’re never gonna feel spectacular throughout a whole fifty or hundred mile race. You may feel “good”, but you’re still gonna hurt. otherwise, why would we do it. The whole idea is shutting all that self talk down. the more positive the mindset, the better you’ll perform.
And now in typical fashion I’m gonna segue away for a minute and the hopefully bring it all back together. Sit tight. So in my so called line of work, calling myself an artist, Ones holes themselves up and strives to create things that are “good”, things that “work”. its not enough to simply paint whats in front of you, otherwise everybody who picked up a paint brush would have something in the Metropolitan museum of art. Without going into to much detail, I’ll sum it up. there’s a lot of crap. Writers have drafts, musicians have outtakes, B sides, endless hours of recording, to get to those 10-12 songs that are decent enough to be album material. Amongst the few great runs are a whole lot of bad runs. That’s what I’m doing. In the realm being an artist, just like in running, you have those many cold and grey days where you’re schlepping through runs, or paintings, doing a twenty miler, throwing around the brushes and simultaneously asking yourself ‘why the hell am I doing this’?
So when its dark and cold, and I’m producing crap, not selling any work, haven’t run a
race in month or two, watching my bank account shrink..my head at times feels like a
walnut in a vice. I tell myself I’m crazy for doing what I do. “who does this? who is crazy enough to call themselves an artist, who, despite all this creative failure, keeps doing it again and again, isn’t that the definition of insanity”. On the other hand, its good to obsessively driven and yet be self aware enough to recognize the good and the bad work. Otherwise, everything I did, I would be deem great and I would in fact be crazy.
When things aren’t going your way, its easy to have these thoughts of self doubt. I even read it in a book I plucked off the Barnes and Noble shelf one time. The book was “art and fear” it was a book we had been assigned to read in my college painting class twenty some years ago, when I was an art major. The idea- its easy to doubt yourself in the hard times. I can assure, when i sell a big painting for a good price, those doubts fade quickly. When I lend a dozen works to used in a major Hollywood film, I feel like my endless failures have indeed also resulted in success and it feels really justified. Bottom line is, if you’re doing it, you’re an artist. if you’re running, you’re a runner. What I have to remind myself is that its all an Ultra. Control what you can control. Eat as well as well you can, exercise even after you’ve exercised. Know that when you enter the arena, whatever it may be, you have take the good with the bad. I always say, if we wanted easy, we wouldn’t run ultras, we would just go walk around the mall.
I happened to visit the Carnegie Museum of Art just yesterday. I was actually only there to visit the gift shop, again for Christmas gifts. I happen to see a reproduction of a Van Gogh “wheat fields”. If you asked me who my top fifteen artists are, I likely wouldn’t list Van Gogh as one of them. I like his work, but maybe he’s too easy to name. Despite this, there’s an undeniable genius in his work. The way the trees and other objects were arranged, pulled my eyes around the canvas like it was literally moving. It was really like magic. This was a reproduction on a canvas about 12×16 inches, not even the real thing. Despite this, I had to run my fingers along the top of the canvas to get even closer to it. Far away from the crusty, dingy cave of recent “failures” that I bask myself in at home and in the fresh environment with this Van Gogh, it reminded me of what I’m after. I’m after that potential. Just to note, I do work that I’m highly satisfied with, as an artist you do a lot of work and pull out the good ones. My instinct is usually right and those are the ones that usually sell quickly. Unfortunately, because as artists, the good stuff goes fast, we’re often surrounded by our failures. When you do the good work, it puts you in a great mood, you did it.. there’s nothing looming over your head about the work, like when you haven’t got your run in and your distracted. You’re at peace.
Seeing that Van Gogh was like hearing Tony tell me he called me for some inspiration. in the sense that it was a reminder. Both reminded me of who I am, what I do, what I represent. I guess its all “inspiration”. What is inspiration but that thing that gives you that little kick, that little spark, that little bit of zest. I was reminded of the hard work I put in as a runner and as an artist. Perhaps I was reminded that maybe I’ve presented myself in such a way that someone thought of me to get them through the end of a long run. Its a good thing to aspire to be. Ask my kids who, despite these winter blahs, goes out the door nearly everyday, regardless of temperature and occasional blanket of snow. I may pace around the hallway sighing and groaning about it, but I will always go out the door, because that’s the runner I am. Try to be that person.
Despite often feeling the same way every winter, I remind myself that I’m on track to
finish with my highest yearly mileage total to date, a third consecutive year of over three thousand miles. Of those three thousand miles, many and I mean many, I didn’t want to do. But what would I be doing without the running, how would I feel with the black cloud above my head.
So where is the coherency in another ‘incoherent rambling of a semi lucid runner?
whats the ultimate message? I think its the age old, always reliable “ keep grinding”,
keep being who you are, even when its tough, don’t let yourself stay from that person. Strive to be that person that someone thinks of to get them through that hard run. And remind yourself of that. You can use that reference literally and metaphorically. “Get out of your own way”, as they say.
Just yesterday I was feeling stressed and a little tired. I got down and did 101 burpees, it always does the trick. I needed to wake my mind up, get it out of its comfy, dull blah. There is no ideal and perfect. We all know, that’s a matter of perspective. Do the run, do the painting, do the work. Most of us choose to do the marathon, do the ultra, do the race, not “go walk around the mall”. That’s who we choose to be.
So again, I remind myself, I’m 45 years old, and this past year I still ran a 4:49 mile, I ran a 6:44 at the JFK miler, I ran my first hundred miler, and I also sold several of those good paintings I felt good about, Not to mention had more of my work used in another Hollywood film. I’m also on track to finish with my highest yearly mileage total to date, likely over 3100 miles. All if this no comparison to having my health and the health of those around me. So always, there’s the reminder of gratitude before desire. Now, I’m likely gonna finish this and do a workout, I hope you all do the same. maybe 100 burpees?
N of 1 Running 