Taking a zero
Thru-hikers are a rare breed. They choose to walk several miles on the same long-distance trail, end-to-end. It takes weeks, months for these courageous (foolish?) souls to complete there journey. For several days in a row, they wear the same clothes and eat the same package calorie-rich foods. Living in Oregon, I have at least heard of the Pacific Crest Trail, but thru-hikers get their kicks all over the globe.
Because they walk every day, the miles really do add up. But what happens when they decide to stay in camp for a day? Or they leave the trail for a nearby town and replenish their stores? Or, worse, they become ill and cannot carry on? On those days, they don't walk any miles. That is where the term, "taking a zero," comes from. Whether they are compelled to or it's completely voluntary, they walk zero miles that day.
Sunday came and went with so much activity and distraction, that by the time the dust settled, I was too tired to do anything--it was the end of a long week and an even longer weekend. So I unintentionally "took a zero."
Monday was my day off but it was also the first day of summer for the kids. Truthfully, I do not know where that day went and I wish I could have it back. Another zero.
Tuesday and Wednesday (today) have been dominated by the needs of my children--summer school, swimming, stage production--and, oh yeah, work. Now I find myself sitting in my living room, late at night, too dark to walk or run. Again, more zero.
What am I saying here? Well, after starting out strong--seven days in a row of walking and running--I have followed it up with four days of zero. This is unacceptable. I'm miserable. And disappointed.
Where's my resolve? Aren't I that rare breed that can decide to take on a monumental journey and succeed? Admittedly, when I hit the plateau I struggled. I struggled a lot. It was a mental game that I wasn't winning.
There is good reason for thru-hikers to take a zero. I am not at that point. So tomorrow I restart. Let the miles add up. Remember, I am a runner!
Because they walk every day, the miles really do add up. But what happens when they decide to stay in camp for a day? Or they leave the trail for a nearby town and replenish their stores? Or, worse, they become ill and cannot carry on? On those days, they don't walk any miles. That is where the term, "taking a zero," comes from. Whether they are compelled to or it's completely voluntary, they walk zero miles that day.
Sunday came and went with so much activity and distraction, that by the time the dust settled, I was too tired to do anything--it was the end of a long week and an even longer weekend. So I unintentionally "took a zero."
Monday was my day off but it was also the first day of summer for the kids. Truthfully, I do not know where that day went and I wish I could have it back. Another zero.
Tuesday and Wednesday (today) have been dominated by the needs of my children--summer school, swimming, stage production--and, oh yeah, work. Now I find myself sitting in my living room, late at night, too dark to walk or run. Again, more zero.
What am I saying here? Well, after starting out strong--seven days in a row of walking and running--I have followed it up with four days of zero. This is unacceptable. I'm miserable. And disappointed.
Where's my resolve? Aren't I that rare breed that can decide to take on a monumental journey and succeed? Admittedly, when I hit the plateau I struggled. I struggled a lot. It was a mental game that I wasn't winning.
There is good reason for thru-hikers to take a zero. I am not at that point. So tomorrow I restart. Let the miles add up. Remember, I am a runner!
Comments
Post a Comment