I was given a running magazine the other day whose headline lead was simply "Run Faster". Some weeks later I've not really formed an opinion on this, for everytime it catches my eye I'm drawn to pause and look for a reaction, a reaction that is without doubt there but still hasn't formed. It's either 'well obviously yes...' but then again 'well, actually no'. We are obsessed with measuring everything about our running and buying magazines, tools and supplements to help us seemingly improve everything, except one thing...enjoyment.
There are no gadgets for evaluating pleasure, scant magazine articles or headlines eluding to this rarely discussed phenomena, and seemingly few people who share the notion that running can be fun. I finished a run with Pete the other day to which he concluded 'I didn't enjoy that at all, Rich'. What...you mean the quiet Sunday morning, running through lush fields, being out in the morning mist as the sun fought through to burn off a dewy haze revealing a deep blue sky, exchanging a bit of banter, exploring a new route and sharing a coffee at the the end?
"Yeah, hated it". And I sort of get it, he was on about how he felt, the pace, his energy levels and so on...I just loved being out. I certainly didn't enjoy not running last night. For some reason Chris didn't come to pick me up, so I was left hanging and spent the evening harrumphing. Although I'm a bit hyper-aware of my emotions just now, I couldn't help but notice I felt the polar opposite of how I feel after a run. Grumpy. More than usual, before you say! So this morning, I embraced the dark and took my first 'night run'...and saw the sun rise. Happy.
