Being that I am an acting major, a lot of my day dreaming centers around movies. I often envision myself as a movie character or compare my current life experience to that of a pivotal cinematic scene. What I am about to show you is an accurate representation of what goes on inside my brain.
Usually, when I start, I feel unstoppable, and my brain bursts with energy and excitement. That usually looks something like this:
The first few minutes, maybe even just seconds of running, are almost rejuvenating. I feel like a world-class athlete, like I should go audition for the Olympics, my physical prowess is that good.
Very soon, however, this enthusiasm turns into dogmatic mauntra, which looks something like this:
To distract myself from the physical exhaustion I am putting myself through, I try to entertain myself by looking at the scenery. I don't listen to music while I run. I don't like little ear buds yanking on my ears and I always get too concerned about the song I am listening to. All my mental energy must go towards making my legs keep moving. But, whenever I look around me, inevitably there is something I see that makes me more wary than pleasantly amused. Usually, it's one of two things I see, which look something like this:
Or, more often than not, this is what really happens inside my head:
Then, my brain usually goes onto auto-pilot. This mean that the random songs start playing. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a tendency to sing the same song lyric, from the most annoying songs mind you, over and over and over again. My college roommate can tell you about my "Umbrella" period. Those were dark days. It's a terrible, totally unconscious reflex. It's really a tic that results in the people around me wanting to throw things at me. Well, guess what, I suffer too. Since I am running and breathless and therefore cannot actually sing out loud, my inner voice starts crooning and torments me with the same refrain stuck on repeat. Today's most recent song selections include:
and this
Ugh. That last one was the worst. I think there literally was a 20 minute stretch where the song was reduced to just "Don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my, don't go breaking my" and so on and so on.
Sometimes, something will happen to shock me out of my song psychosis. By this point my brain has been so overwhelmed by cheesy song lyrics that my reaction to whatever is happening in the real world is not a normal, well-adjusted reaction. It usually looks something like this:
or this
Confessions of a Crazy Person.
Now, at some point, my body starts to send signals to my brain that this running thing is no fun. I'm sweating, my knees are hurting, my feet are aching, and no amount of perpetually repeating music can stifle this message of bodily suffering. Then it becomes a matter of mind over body. I become very abusive with myself, berating my body to keep going. That usually looks something like this:
So sad, I know. Now, perhaps a normal person would think "I am so glad I am pushing myself to be better" or "I am so proud of myself that I am running for a good cause", but I can't muster that kind of rationalism. Instead, if I do ever try to cheer myself on, it looks something disturbingly like this:
Again, these are not the reactions of a sane person. All the running temporarily disables my common sense and I become SUPER melodramatic. Well, more melodramatic than normal.
Finally, the end of my running episode is in sight. I sense the finish line is close and every fiber of my being anticipates that moment when I get to STOP. RUNNING. After what has probably been about 2 hours of continuous running, in my brain I look and feel something like this:
And then, at last, it's OVER! I DID IT! I HAVE WON! (what did I win? I don't know. I'm just training, this isn't the actual race. Not that I could actually win a race unless I was competing against blind miniature pigs) I AM FREE!
Now that I have finished, I limp home to first take a large dose of anti-inflammatory pain medication and second eat a truck load of pasta. Then, and only then, can my mind revert back to what it thinks about the other 99% percent of the time:
No comments:
Post a Comment