I would liked to have gone up to the Edge tonight. But I couldn't. Wouldn't. Instead, I was down the track doing my own reps. I did the parkrun last weekend. Diligent plans of starting at the back and running a steady 24 mins. I'd rehearsed and everything, just to make sure it was both doable, but also comfortable. And I did indeed start at the back, but on the 2nd lap I faltered and started chasing people. So now this week I've vowed to run again, but clearly I have to demonstrate improvement.
So that's why I've been at the track. I need to improve my fitness...by Saturday. I don't think that's really going to happen. What is happening, is that I'm remembering the pain, the enduring suffering that is a shock when running is new, but tolerated, almost ignored when the running is routine. And I'm also recalling the discipline. That which is needed to push during my reps, and that which is required to show restraint in a race, or a timed run. It all feels new. But it's not. Just forgotten.
