Why Giving Up On Running Just Doesn’t Work With Me.
Today I convinced myself to stop running until at least the 100k in 12 days time.
I felt a lot of peace for the first time in a while. In truth the only thing that has been putting me off running is the idea that I have to run.
So with my mind assured I got off the train after work at Mornington Crescent and heard something like a whimper inside of me. It was an old angry dog. The old angry dog who loves to run for the hell of it.
When I can’t do something or it is now off limits I actually want to do it! If they’d have prohibited all running in games in school I would probably be a running fucking champ by now.
I want to go back to running for fun. I don’t mind undertaking challenges and pushing myself but the truth is I don’t want to be a fast or strong runner as much as I want to be happy within myself.
And the truth is that when I am happy I naturally run more and become stronger.
That’s why running drills and pushing myself to the brink have never appealed to me that much. I think the only reason that I’ve managed to run over 100 miles in 41 of the last 43 months is that I’ve tried to enjoy it as much as possible. I know where I’ll go back to if I stop running.
And it just won’t happen.
It is just the obligation of running the 100k that kinda fazed me over the past few months. I talked about turning professional at the start of the year and fully intended to spend this year living like a hermit in my hometown for the next year. But I turned 30 and I knew if I didn’t give life a proper shot then I’d seriously fucking regret it.
The worst of the doubt is over. Running and walking the 100k won’t be anywhere near as bad as the self doubt I’ve weathered over the past while.
I will get to Brighton and I will eat fucking chips and I will come back for more.
The only really thing I have going for me is my tenacity. But that’s all I fucking need to be where I want to get to in life.
Back to tonight.
I put on my shoes and ran towards Regent’s Park. I got lost somewhere around NW8 and didn’t stop until I had 8.1 miles in my legs.
Running back onto Camden High Street via Parkway was one of those wank fantasy moments that runners have where the endorphins are turning your brain inside out and you and the universe fuck in the glare of traffic lights.
There was a while where I thought I was in serious trouble of capitulating and giving up on running for good but it just goes to show that I want to continue on with it.
I just need to stop pushing myself to ridiculous extremes. I’m happy to get to the point where I can run marathons casually. That’s always been my end goal.
My plan is to go to Europe for a month and live somewhere beautiful on my own like Crete and do nothing but run. The end goal is to turn this blog into a travel & running website. I’d love to spend a month in every country I’ve ever wanted to live in and really turn this website into a proper freak show.