Modern life is a paradox of balancing comfort and responsibilities. We seek comfort wherever we can. We have soft clothes and beds, controlled temperatures, full bellies, relatively easy city jobs, mandated retirement savings, endless entertainment options. Almost anything one could ask for, at our fingertips.

As we get older, we collect and gather more responsibilities and obligations. Work itself occupies the bulk of our waking time. It is natural to seek comfort and comfort only in our spare time.

With only seeking comfort amongst all our responsibilities, there is no opposite and opposing force. Just comfort itself can lead to a feeling of imbalance. A sense of lethargy, sluggishness, malaise, restlessness.

I stumbled onto running this year. It has been two years since my ankle surgery, and it has been a long gradual process of rehabilitation. I have slowly moved through the stages of progression, from completely non-weight bearing for months, to practicing standing, to hobbling along on crutches, to walking, to jogging, to running.

I rediscovered a familiar feeling of suffering that I had not felt since my young swimming days. A long forgotten feeling, discarded aside after I stopped swimming and began to be occupied by the responsibilities and obligations of my mid-20’s.

The paradox is that you would think that any form of suffering should be avoided at all costs. Yet from this experience, that feels not quite true. Suffering can feel good. Having both opposing forces brings balance, contrast and more colour to everything else in life.

I am a slow beginner runner. But once you start running, it doesn’t matter. The beauty is in the struggle in your own mind, and in your body as one. Each stride is voluntary, and must be committed by you alone. Each stride is an opportunity, a simple choice to stop or to keep going.

There is no momentum to keep you moving forward, and no time for respite. If you don’t take another stride, you will come to a standstill. The suffering is in your heart pumping, lungs heaving, muscles tiring, feet aching, mind protesting. It is uninterrupted and unrelenting.

I just completed my first 21.1km half marathon, two years on from ankle surgery. A milestone that seemed very far away, even just a few months ago. From running this year, I have rediscovered that suffering can be a good thing. It can be balancing force to everything else.