Sunday 1st March
Run #60
3k Richmond Park Loop
I woke up today
despondent and moody from having been woken up by the tightness in my calves in
the night and fully aware of my insteps before even setting a foot on the floor. Typically
it's always when you most want to run that you can't. Today was the first day
of Spring and felt like it: sunny, bright, warm and breezy, and I was itching to get
out for the Sunday long run that usually feels like such a chore compared to the sacrificed lie-in. Today, I wanted to run. But I'd promised myself a week at least of
minimal distance and keep trying to remind myself that a week, in the grand
scheme of things, is nothing.
But this obviously
wasn't sorting out my bad attitude as M told me again that I didn't have to run
at all. And got the sharp end of my mood in response. To which he quite
pragmatically pointed out that I can make it about performance, and times, and
the Half Marathon coming up at the end of March. Or I can make it about The
Streak and make peace with the cutting right back while I try and recover my
feet. And just quit the bitching about it.
I couldn't stop
thinking about this as I trotted out my few k for the day. Once I got over the
breeze (which was pretty windy in actual fact, and did seem to be a head-wind,
irrespective of which direction I was running,) I took my time to luxuriate in
the feeling of Spring. The Park was alive with smells of bracken and grass. The
breeze on my face felt invigorating but with more warmth than any day this
year. And full of promise for the Spring to come. And I was out here because I was choosing to be. And I was out here for only 2k for exactly the same reason.
And, feeling uplifted, I got home where even icing my ankles felt less depressing than yesterday.
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