Just do it

I think that I should write this before I go home, lest my blog turn into a rambling, ongoing, examination of conscience at day's end as recommended by the philosophers and mystics. I have no quibble with Socrates statement that the unexamined life is not worth living, but I am not sure it is worth reading... unedited.
 It took me awhile to find my rhythm this morning. I even strolled out the back avenue, lingered a bit in the glorious sunshine to see if I could find the 'switch' which makes it all a bit more natural. I didn't find that 'click', so decided to go for the 'jump start' approach, ie. just move your legs in a running motion and see what happens. I have learned this from the task of writing essays as a student. (To clarify, the discipline required for writing is to just sit at the desk and begin to write out ideas as they are in my head; moving my legs in a running motion does not help with writing at all!)  I tend to want to wait for the inspired moments in life and, really, I am learning inspiration is an infrequent visitor.  Sometimes, you just got to do it .. awkward, jerky, ungainly, lumbering, slow and against the grain as it may be. And before you know it, I'm moving along happily enough. The running got smoother and I settled into it.
I did the second shorter run (4m) today instead of the middle-distance run (7m) because I took my yoga class last evening in lieu of the missed Monday class. The yoga was great fun, but intense. I left class well stretched but knowing that I would be tired in the morning, hence, the decision to do the shorter run.
That was a wise decision. I was tired - jagged, spiky tired from too litttle sleep. All my own fault, of course. I rang Etty when I came in, dying to get the low-down on how they were getting on and we had a mighty chat ... giggle too ... about the adventures of finding yourself in a completely unknown spot. I'll let her do the talking (writing) but they seem to be doing fine within the obvious challenges such a move brings.  The chat was worth it, I still got my run in, my work done and I managed to be amiable when required (only when required). I will just have to go to bed earlier tonight. I remind myself that too is part of the discipline of training.
 I am facing a 15-mile run on Saturday. I only did this once before (Killarney maxi-marathon) and a good stretch of that had a lovely gradual downhill, right at that point of a long run where all engines are fired up and you still have tonnes of energy left. It was like running on the wind.  I have no idea what I look like, but it felt gracefull (sic). Despite that experience, I think that I have built up a certain anxiety on account of the less-than-perfect training weeks, especially the lack of long runs. Anxiety tends to be a constant companion, I'm afraid ... but enough. We are heading into examination of conscience territory again.