I've done a lot of running around this week, 42 miles in fact. That's quite good, isn't it? It almost suggests I'm back 'on it'! But that's not quite been the case. On Wednesday I so very nearly ran, but hesitated for slightly too long that the concept of choice drifted into my conscious thought. Then I started that kind of inner negotiation, where I developed rationalised reasoning for not going, but obviously would take a circuits class instead.
Then that deadline passed, beyond which the genuine option of having a legitimate rest day had turned to an evening with a heavy burden of failure. And what follows is a period of self flagellation, runners style! A self imposed extra hard RunClub session on Thursday and Project 'Run to Work' Friday morning, my punishment. The latter proved to be a kind of epiphany for me, with respect to my recent 'take it or leave it' attitude to running. I've never run to work before..and it was fun.
I had to pack stuff, plan a route, many routes in fact. I set off in darkness, ran through dawn, watched the sun rise and felt like a true pioneer...overlooking the fact that this was actually the route I drive anyway. But that's the fun of an A to B route. You have to get there...there's no turning back. Never has a trifling 10 mile run through suburban Manchester felt like such an adventure! Riding the high from this unexpected burst of pleasure, a return to Conwy on Saturday to recce the impending half marathon route.
A peaceful morning, not a ripple on the water and blue skies. Nice. Ascending the Orme seems entirely manageable. The real killer to this route is the shoreline path and the amount of sand washed up. It almost grinds you to a halt. in fact it did. It'll be intersting once that's been churned up by a couple of thousand runners...in each direction. Of course, it wasn't necessary to drive 2 hours to run a course I know. But they have good cake there, coffee, fish & chips, that kind of thing.
And then Sunday was Cross Country. My part was to issue numbers, re issue lost numbers and pay fines, provide pins, direct and point, bring the tent, erect the tent, clean the tent, take the tent down down, hang the tent up in my garage to dry. I didn't run. I could have run, but couldn't have raced. I was enthused by those who did. There's something about that look in their eye as you shout your cheer at them as they sprint by. Teeth gnashing, eyes bulging, you catch their brief glance. These guys were 'on it'!
I've done a lot of running around this week, 42 miles in fact. That's quite good, isn't it? It almost suggests I'm back 'on it'! But that's not quite been the case. On Wednesday I so very nearly ran, but hesitated for slightly too long that the concept of choice drifted into my conscious thought. Then I started that kind of inner negotiation, where I developed rationalised reasoning for not going, but obviously would take a circuits class instead.
And then Sunday was Cross Country. My part was to issue numbers, re issue lost numbers and pay fines, provide pins, direct and point, bring the tent, erect the tent, clean the tent, take the tent down down, hang the tent up in my garage to dry. I didn't run. I could have run, but couldn't have raced. I was enthused by those who did. There's something about that look in their eye as you shout your cheer at them as they sprint by. Teeth gnashing, eyes bulging, you catch their brief glance. These guys were 'on it'!