Why do you run, yes 'you', why do you run? It's a question on my mind at the moment. Perhaps over analysing a little, but there are various facets of my so called 'Running Around' I truly enjoy, yet some other aspects simply pass me by. It's difficult to articulate, the real reasons, the drive and passion that's responsible for hauling my running shoes on, sometimes with giddy anticipation, other times with a grudging reluctance. To the casual observer this must at times appear questionable, even if noticed at all.
I've said it before, some people get it, others don't, and if they don't get it, I tend not to bother trying to justify something that is very special to me. If you get it, you get it and you know. If you don't, then that's fine, I don't need to explain. But what if you had to explain, how would you do that? In fact do you really know, can you find the words, does it make sense even to you? There's running...and running. It's not all the same. I went to watch a 5k on Sunday morning.
My Club, Wilmslow, were visiting Alexandra Park in Manchester as part of their Summer Series. 80 runners, over half from Wilmslow. It caused chaos for the organisers...and looking around you could see this is usually a small quiet event, and Wilmslow had crashed the party. But what drags half the club out to central Manchester on a damp Sunday morning, to run around an interesting but less than attractive park, not once, not twice, but three times? I do get 'that', I really do, but it doesn't do it for me.
Hard to explain! But as I was stood there, slightly detached from the action, looking at the spectators (less than 10 in all) looking at the runners, I was wondering what must they be thinking, watching these people of all shapes and sizes, some of whom had been here for over an hour, to run three times around this park, looking like death as the finish line approaches some 20 minutes later. What's that all about? Yes, I can see the appeal in that, the test, the measure of fitness, the competition, the racing, the battle.
Again, it wasn't for me on Sunday, but I do get it...and when I'm asked why I'm not racing I can't really explain. I just can't string a line of words together that sounds convincing. Other runners can't understand why I'm not running. Then later that very same day, Pete finds out he has in fact been selected to represent Team GB in his age group for the ETU 2012 Triathlon Championships in Eilat.
Mission accomplished. He is euphoric. He calls me, you can feel it down the phone, he's oozing with emotion and says, 'I don't know what to do with myself, let's go for a run'. And so we go, to Macc Forest. I'm tired, it's raining, my ankle is hurting, I tape it up and take pain killers, we jam his reluctant dog in the back of the car, we get out and run, still raining.
I can't keep up, wheeze my way up the hills, lungs bursting, heart screaming, ankle throbbing, rain pissing down, we get lost, end up the other side of Shuts, he wants to run to the top, I need to be carried up...and so it goes on. At the top, Pete shouts out, arms aloft, buzzing. I'm on my knees. I try to tell this tale to a few others. Nope, they don't get it. Wasted. For me, it was an epic run. You had to be there, on that run, to understand what that run was like. It could only have been then, on that day, under those circumstances. That is the story of that run. It was special.
Other runs for quite different reasons have their own special magic, similar but unique ingredients, mixed slightly differently, with a completely different outcome. Can't predict it before you set out, can't really explain it when you get back. You had to be there. Adventures waiting to happen, stories yet to be told. But what I can do is reflect on the two runs of the day. One was an event, something to do, the other a part of my life, part of who I am and very difficult to explain. It's a passion. Running Around.
Hard to explain! But as I was stood there, slightly detached from the action, looking at the spectators (less than 10 in all) looking at the runners, I was wondering what must they be thinking, watching these people of all shapes and sizes, some of whom had been here for over an hour, to run three times around this park, looking like death as the finish line approaches some 20 minutes later. What's that all about? Yes, I can see the appeal in that, the test, the measure of fitness, the competition, the racing, the battle. 
