Aren’t you in awe of your mind and body?

Last night, I wrote a story about my recent alcohol abstinence. I like how I finished it: “I’ve introduced a marginal improvement to the complicated workings of my body and mind.”

I’m not being narcissistic about my writing, but that choice of words — “the complicated workings of my body and mind” — is good. It reflects how I feel about my physical and mental existence.

I’m in awe.

Maybe it’s my passion for running that adds to this sentiment. I ran 85 miles last week. I love running. The mileage is definitely high, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Running is never a burden for me, never a chore. Three years ago, it became a habit. And then it became an uncompromising habit. And then I became an excellent runner. To do all that running, I had to fuel well. It sounds obvious — the need to fuel but I always have to think about my nutrition. I often experiment, and my preferences change.

And maybe there is a darker side to my love of running. I struggled in some other planes of my life. In long-distance running, I found refuge and excellence, compensating for some of my other failures. I don’t think there is anything dark about my running — I always enjoyed it — but I accept the possibility of running playing a role in my mental health. I don’t like the expression “mental health” in the context of this story. I’m referring to something much deeper — the incredible complexity of the workings of our brains.