160 Days Of The Run Streak
There was a faint bit of blue in the December morning sky when I first started my run streak back in 2015.
I’d stopped drinking a fortnight previously and was tired of falling back into cycles of binge drinking, not running and overeating.
Ever since then I’ve ran every single day. 160 days. Over 5 months. Well over 1,500 miles.
In February I ran 29 half marathons back to back almost recording 400 miles.
In March I badly fucked up an attempt at the Green Man Ultra and dismayed by this I went on a fun backpacking trip around Europe where I magically found a sense of purpose and ran through 7 countries.
This month I’m running to Brighton from London and I’m gonna enjoy it.
This week I shat myself, lost my trainers I’d ran 1,250 miles in and still managed a 40 mile week with new trail shoes.
And I’m still not boozing.
At night sometimes get the urge to drink but I know it’s not alcohol I want. I want to be at ease and to relax. I want peace from my brain. Alcohol may render me oblivious for a few hours but during that time I’ll end up going on Twitter, saying a lot of stupid things and then I’ll regret it all later. It doesn’t relax me. It brings stress, misery and pain.
Tonight I want peace but I can’t buy it by the bottle.
I’l shower and call your mother to see if she wants to go out fox hunting. We typically put Rolos on the end of the fishing line by the Cricket Club and reel the fuckers in when we get a tug. Then it’s a classy hobo dinner for 2.
And then romance.