Running Track: A Study in Masochism

In track, the best masochist wins. That is to say, rather, the most versatile masochist wins.

I am an expert on this because I just joined track, which means that I know all things about it.

Here are the two kinds of pain a person must embrace in order to win at track:
1) Sustained, throbbing, lifestyle pain. In addition to the nasty slogs of endless training runs, you must not forget that homeless, hungry ache of lactic acid in well-worked muscles. This is the pain that haunts you to classes and makes you wince when you walk down hills. It reminds you not to smoke cigarettes or drink carbonated beverages. It’s delicious for its reality, a comfort and a blight, like a beloved stuffed porcupine (cute!) with real quills.
2) Vivid, intestine-rending race pain. This is where classical masochists differentiate themselves from the pack. In the interest of comparative language, this basically feels like bullfrogging, except that it is self-induced, sans alcohol, with perfectly earnest intention.

And that, I think, is a fair summary of track. So why do it? Well…
1) It introduces great chemicals to your body/brain. Free.
2) Group showers.
3) Maybe you won’t be so fat anymore.
4) You’re a masochist.

As any logical person can see, the pro to con ratio here is 2:1. Which means that surfing the internet is rationally the wrong thing for you to be doing right now.

Dude, go.