I am a long standing member of the Go Straight Home Club.
And while the club’s main activity is fairly easy—so easy that anyone can do it—some members, over the years, have felt the need to make it interesting. Some take detours or shortcuts or even long cuts sans the stops; the “scenic route” has always been a welcome change for them. Others insist on obstacles; simple is boring ergo the thirst for challenges along the way, granted those don’t keep them away from home.
Then there are those who make walking look like flying just above ground.
You’ve seen them. Ordinary people with the most ordinary-looking shoes doing the extraordinary feats on their feet—and all in the bounds of walking! It’s like they have on the winged sandals of speed gods and they fly past other mortals.
Now that is my zone!
While I love the rush, especially when I am competing with competent contenders, I follow personal rules. I stick to the route, which means no shortcuts of whatever form (like crossing the highway because the guards have gone into the shade) or free rides from vehicles of any kind. I do not run or jog. But I allow myself jumps although not of the long kind; jumps are only reserved for stairs or getting over an obstacle that won’t be moving anywhere anytime soon.
For the record though, the adrenaline and testosterone doesn’t start pumping when I approach the Bundy clock. Yes I get excited by the thought of going home but I’m pumped up when I play any one of my race songs.
My songs are like the pistol at beginning of the race: they get me going. And as long as I hear them, I do not slow down. I do not stop.