An Obsessed Runner Obsesses About Not Running. Missing A Run Is Not The End Of The World.
I didn’t go on that run today.
In fact I didn’t get into bed until 5am and when I finally hit the land of nod, my sleep was peppered with nightmares about the Sun falling out of the sky and the usual horse-shit.
When I miss an organised run, I become hysterical with myself at first. Then, gradually I’ll calm down as the day progresses.
I’m like any addict, if I don’t get my fix I will lose my mind until I get what I want, which usually won’t happen until the next day at the earliest.
What’s different today, is that I don’t want to run. I don’t care about it for now. I’ve spent the last 18 months worrying about when to run, where to run, how I should run and why I should run.
Every now and again it pays to kick off the shoes and to think ‘Aw fuck it all! Where are the burgers! Where is the bath? Where are my pipe and slippers?’
I am not especially bothered about my diet, or calorie intake or my weight either today. As we speak I’m eating a bag of Mini Babybel and I’m eyeing up my Port Salut cheese slice that I have in for later.
Running as an activity should be about joy and not something born out of necessity.
If I felt forced into it every day for the rest of my life then I’d never want to do it again.
That’s why I try to re-discover the reasons why I do it every morning I wake up.
- It revitalises me.
- If I’m feeling down, it gets me out of that claustrophobic mindset where I can’t see the woods for the trees and problems seem bigger than they really are.
- It starts the day off in the best possible way.
In short, it’s something I want to do rather than something I necessarily have to do. On some days, it takes a while to rediscover the reasons I listed above.
Today, I just didn’t bother looking for the reasons and opted to kick back and relax, for you’re a long time dead.