To any sane person the long run would seem like hell. If double-digit mileage before double digit time-of-day is not the habit of a sane person then I have no other option but to except my insanity. If the sane person dreads the long run, the insane yearn for it. To me, the long run is an uninterrupted state of meditation. The inherit pain of running for two hours numbs you from the distractions of the outside world. All that exists is you and your thoughts wrapped in an insulating cocoon of uncomfortable exertion. It is hard to describe the experience to a non-initiated person, but the feeling of successfully completing the long run is akin to taking a nap on a sunny, summer day. The runner’s high you are left with is a warm comfortable feeling, a feeling that leaves you content with your accomplishment.