I’ve seen it suggested that running is as much about the mental as the physical. I’ll be honest, I’ve often felt that this applied mainly to those whose bodies functioned better than mine, so I’ve ignored this adage for the last few years.
That said though, I’m slowly starting to come round to the idea that this might still be a truth universally acknowledged which might actually have some relevance to my own little situation.
This evening I tried to set myself up for as ‘easy’ a ride as possible for a long(ish) run by heading to the Quayside (it’s been a while), my go-to blend of the picturesque and the flat. However, as is so often the case, those joints midway down my legs which shall not be named were at their most mischievous right from the off. As soon as I wearily plonked one foot in front of the other, they sent me an unmistakable message along the lines of ‘Sorry, Browno, we’re not up for this tonight pal. Take us home and put us down on your recliner, there’s a good lad’.
So what did I do? I ignored those boney, tangled, cartilage-deficient little fuckers. I just pushed on. It was slow, it was uncomfortable, but sheer weight of will carried me five miles, and I feel absolutely fantastic. (albeit pretty sore).
I needed this. Because I’ve made such a public spectacle of my efforts this year, people often kindly ask me, ‘how’s your training going?’ I respond to this with a furrow of the brow, a gentle inclination of the head and say ‘it’s not, my knees have had it, so I’ll just have to get through it as best I can’. That’s all still true, but maybe if I focus my mind properly, getting through it to a reasonable level might be a bit more feasible than I’ve previously feared.
Chill. I’ve got this.
Music: Weezer – The Blue Album