Process

Outcomes are slippery creatures. In practical terms, considering outcomes helps shape our daily lives as we track goals or pursue passions. We may wrap hard work or boring tasks around the idea it’s all worth it because an outcome will make it so. And, experience often tells us this is correct.

Yet, outcomes are inevitably different than we envision. Just as we lack the power to predict the future, we will never know precisely how something will play out. A wise friend once told me, “be careful worrying about outcomes.” I was in my mid-twenties at the time and his words were a revelation. I reflected on major life events and realized none of them unfolded as I’d expected. I’ve carried this concept with me as something of a mantra ever since. Of course, releasing ourselves from outcomes helps us focus on only the present; a fundamental mindfulness practice.

I considered these ideas today as I wondered if I might take a header into a tree well. I’d signed up for my first “snowshoe race” and discovered just how tired legs can feel after slogging through snow on state-of-the-art tennis rackets. The race arrived a week after having a diagnosed case of Influenza A and five-day courses of Tamiflu and Prednisone, so, again, “outcomes”.

I’d been excited about the snowshoe race since I first heard about it last summer. After running hard every week of 2018, the White River 4K Snowshoe Race seemed the perfect test of my training. So, I bought special “running snowshoes” and planned to break them in two weeks before the race. Then, the night before my planned trial, the flu hit.

So, I sat in bed for four days and considered outcomes. I took ten days off (my longest break in a year) and returned to running less than a week prior to the race. I felt weak and lacked the energy reserves I typically had when running. But, after a few days back, I decided I would race, even if it ended in disaster.

I arrived at the race with a few simple goals: to finish, to not stop or walk, and to have fun. The strange thing about running is having fun often coincides with feeling like you’re going to vomit. As such, I had a lot of fun today. I felt weaker than usual, but it didn’t matter. The beauty of running, the true essence, derives from the process. There’s something about flailing through the forest while snow and sweat soak your clothes that feels like the truest freedom. Past and future dissolve to reveal a moment when the only thing that matters is you’re a kid again.