It's all in how you see it

It's no secret that one's outlook makes all the difference when tackling any task, and that is especially true of exercise. If you are dreading your workout, then chances are it's not going to be very fun and it's going to be a lot harder. But go into it with a positive attitude, and suddenly it's no longer work. If you're having fun, it's practically effortless and immensely more enjoyable.

I've known this all along, but I never knew quite how true it was until the other day. On Monday, I was not looking forward to that evening's run at all. It wasn't much, just 3 miles. But it might as well have been 300. I just wasn't in the mood.

But I did it anyway. I grimaced and grunted and made myself go, and as a result, every step along the way was pure torture. I felt the pavement pounding into my legs, rattling my bones, jarring my knees and seemingly ripping apart my shins. It was pure hell, and every mile -- heck, every half-mile, every quarter-mile -- I kept telling myself, "Just a little further and then I'm going to abandon this run. I just don't have it today."

But I stuck it out anyway and managed to finish. Not that I was happy about it. I seriously began questioning whether I should continue my marathon training at all. How could I ever run 26.2 miles, if this little 3-mile run was kicking my butt?

When I got home that evening, after dinner my wife and youngest son were getting ready to go for a run, when my oldest son chimed in that he wanted to go, too. Then their eyes turned to me: "We're only one person away from having the whole family ..."

At first, I thought, "No way. I've already done my running for the day." But the more I thought about how it might be fun to run with my family, and about how I could maybe cross another day's run off the list and get another rest day this week, the more I was convinced to go.

As we got started, we made the decision that I would run with my older son, while my wife hung back with our younger son. And then my older son took off without me, so I started running a little faster than usual to catch up to him, but being in a playful mood, I sprinted on past him. He's every bit as competitive as I am, so sprinted to catch back up and pass me again. We laughed, and a little later I did it again, and again he responded. And then again, with the same result. Finally, I saw him looking at a passing car, so I sprinted around the other side of him and got a good lead before he ran me down again. And we laughed the whole way.

That got us through the first mile, and afterwards I noticed how dramatically different I felt on my second run of the night. And although this was a 4-mile run, I wasn't tired, there was no pain in my legs, and to top it off, I was running a much faster pace than normal. I ended up sprinting the final five blocks and ran my fastest time ever (which isn't very fast, but still ...).

In his books, Lance Armstrong describes a similar feeling on the bike as "riding with no chain," describing the feeling of riding seemingly without effort. I suppose the best way to describe my second run that night would be as "running without road," because it really did feel like I was airborne. My legs didn't feel that pounding from the pavement, and I couldn't even hear the usual "clomp" of my footsteps as I ran.

It was simply magic.

So what changed? How could a 4-mile run be so effortless, after an earlier 3-mile run was such punishment? The only answer must be "attitude."

During that first run, it felt like work because it was work, and unwanted work at that. I really didn't want to be there, and my body responded by trying to give me every reason to give up.

But the second run was playtime. I was having fun and laughing. There was no "work" involved, so my body responded by giving me no reason to quit.

It all sounds so simple, but I realize it isn't. I know there are going to be days when I don't want to run, and I'm not going to be able to simply flip a switch and change my attitude about it.

But maybe the knowledge that those perfect runs are out there, that it really is possible to "run without a road," will be enough to keep those dreaded days at a minimum. The effortless run truly is a marvelous experience, and one that is worthy of pursuit. Hopefully, continuing to pursue it will help me view my upcoming runs with anticipation rather than dread, and thereby make it more attainable.