I've talked before about the fitness goblins; a day off training and they come at night and rob you of your form. Got a cold or something, that's you...finished! Or at least that's how it feels. I'm struggling with running just now. I want to, but can't find whatever it was that used to drive me. I'm amazed what I used to do. It seems detached and very far away. I dream of routes I've run and wonder if I could still find my way. I miss my running around and all that it brought, including my fitness.
There's many indicators of my poor form, mainly my aches and pains after any kind of exercise. The Trafford 10k, though 'lite' left me hobbling for the remainder of the day. I did a short 4 miler with Chris before circuits on Monday. My new insoles felt like I was running through porridge. I barely made it through the circuits class, exhausted, cramps and pains where I've had none before. I really started to question if I was cut out for a return to running. How can that be? Then on Tuesday, I found myself at a loose end. No class to go to, I was reminded that it was run club training. The prospect of returning to that was overwhelming. It would only confirm what I already knew. I didn't need that humiliation. But really, why wouldn't I go? Lots of reasons, but none in isolation, so without conscious thought, I found myself turning up, like a new kid to school. Should I drop a group, or try to hang on the back of my old one. The latter, obviously, stubbornness being a speciality of mine, rather than reason. It was hard, and indeed humiliating, but then it happened. I found my inner fitness. It revealed itself not when I wanted it, at the beginning, but on the last lung busting 1k rep of kilo pyramids, and then again as the others were tiring on the 6th, 7th and final of the mind crunchingly horrific hill reps. It happened again yesterday evening as I was lying on the bed, deciding this was my rest day. Chatting with Pete on the phone about how the new wheels I managed to procure for him have proved to be a revelation, as he was parking up at Total Fitness. Then again to Ollie who has just bought some new trainers before he went out for a 'long' 3k run.
So why was it me lying on the bed, pretending I needed to rest. Ridiculous. 'Get your sorry arse out there'. So I did. Sure, my fitness has taken a dint, but it's still there. The fitness goblins have certainly turned me over, but I'm not sure they've taken much. My inner fitness is there, along with all the other questionable characteristics and traits that lurk deep within. It's just covered by a thick layer of emotional tripe, proving once again that running around is as much an issue of the mind as it is of the body.
