Calves on Fire

"Calves on fire..." does not refer to a gruesome bovine incident in rural America, even though that would probably be more interesting. Instead, it just refers to my legs, which I have been stretching, massaging, and rolling out relentlessly to no apparent avail. They burn terribly after about 4 minutes of run/walk training and once they start, they just get worse. I find myself hopping around like a little jackrabbit on the treadmill trying to shake some ice into the fire.

You can imagine how excited I am to learn of this little "glitch" in the whole training system. "Oh, searing pain... that's nice." Despite the pain (and sarcasm) I have been able to force myself to stick to my running schedule so far. I'm trying to get into the whole discipline thing, but I find there are more appealing things to get into than that. Like wine tasting-- now that's something I can get into-- but discipline, well, that one's a little harder to get excited about.

What is so difficult about discipline? The root of the word is 'disciple,' which implies a whole lot of committment. Disciples are some seriously devoted folk. So no wonder discipline is not easy to come by-- you have to resemble disciple-like behavior to be disciplined. And I don't exhibit that kind of behavior yet, so I don't think I have yet become disciplined. It will come, though, as I continue to push myself-- as my calves burn less and less (hopefully), something more will burn inside.