Blake's this I believe paper...

“You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement. “- Steve Prefontaine, College and Olympic runner.

I believe in running. I believe in going the extra mile, literally.

Earlier this summer, I spent most of my days with a pull-up bar and a dumbbell. One early August morning, fifteen pounds lighter, I decided I was ready for a change in routine. I heard that my dad was training for the Boston Marathon. Boston Marathon!? This caught my attention and somewhat puzzled me, because before he hit the P90X workout regimen, exercise was the last priority in his life.

That morning, footsteps crept through my room. I see the rugged beard lean over my face. My dad whispered, “Blake, get up. Let’s go ten miles. I know you haven’t been doing a lot to train for cross country, but this will be good for you.” Ten miles? At my age? This guy is nuts. I took a few seconds to think more about it. What if I could do it? I envisioned myself crossing the ten mile marker. “Sure.”

Within five minutes, the rubber on my shoes was striking the black, cold concrete. Mile 1. This is easy-peasy. Only ten of these, no problem. My dad tells me that we are going all the way downtown. I look at the buildings and sky scrapers. Uh oh. Maybe I am not up for this after all.

The first mile ended with ease. I am slowly getting used to this pattern….Left, right, left, right, left. I was feeling strong, and now I had 2 miles under my belt. My dad and I chat back and forth for a long while. After a minute of the pace slowly accelerating, I ask my dad why we are speeding up. Apparently, marathon pace hurts.

Mile 3. This was the hardest mile yet. After warming up and getting used to the pace, my dad sped up. My chest slowly inflated and deflated, and I could see the condensation appear with every breath I took. My dad assured me that if I was starting to get scared about breathing too hard, it was just my brain telling me to stop, even though my body can do more than my synapses tell my body.

Mile 4. We finally reached a pace where we both could keep a constant rhythm. If my synapses ever told my body to stop, it was then. Why did I keep moving? At that point in the run, I had no idea. We were coming up on Lakewood, and our rhythm ended momentarily for the triumphant swig of water. Almost half way there.

Mile 5. This pace was comforting. My body finally convinced my brain that I could do it. Pain egressed from my core and my legs. My dad explained this phenomenon as a “runner’s high”, or an endorphin rush. The “physician” explained to me that my body released a hormone known as an endorphin throughout my bloodstream. It released pain and is considered a natural anti-depressant. I feel confident as Central Expressway comes into view.

Mile 6. We entered the Katy trail. The endorphins still overpowered any pain that I might have been experiencing. Bridges passed under my feet with ease. How was it that I was not tired? I was probably more tired at the beginning of the run as my dad dragged me out of bed on an early Saturday morning. My feet started to ache, but I kept going, because, well, it was all I could do.

Mile 7. Glimpses of green and silver buildings passed over the trees I ran. I was close, and I knew it. I was also exhausted. Every step came with the thought…How much farther until water? My endorphin rush had left me, and I was running on pure will power. Muscles constricted, muscles contracted. I thought I saw the end of the trail, but soon revealed a long bend in the trail. When is it over?

Mile 8. As I squinted, I finally saw the end of the trail. I can do this! Almost home! When I finally came past the last loop, I kept my eyes forward. I guess this is the key to being successful at anything... Looking forward. Because if you are only looking backwards, you’ll never see how far you could have gone. Possibilities lie in the future and not the past.

Mile 9. The pain rushing in my muscles and lungs was a small pittance compared to the awesome sense of achievement of finally seeing downtown Dallas. My dad told me I had to run into Victory Plaza. (I know why they call it Victory Plaza now.)

Mile ten. When I saw the AT&T sign, I let myself accelerate, until I was running a full on sprint. Stone beneath my feet and pain within my lungs, but I reached it, and I threw my hands in the air celebrating myself.

Why was I so proud of myself? I understood that many people run this distance or farther every day. Why was I proud? In the time I could have spent sleeping, I accomplished something that I never in my dreams believed I could do. I learned that I, Blake, could do anything that I truly work at, be it running or math or basketball or science. You can only achieve while looking forward. I believe in running. I believe that running allows one to test your body to the fullest capacity. I believe that running shows me that determination, hard work, and devotion can all lead toward the highest level of success and achievement. Possibilities… This I believe…

- Blake Bordelon