And here I sit, blood still flowing through my legs from a short 3 mile trot around the village. I included, in the local circuit, a loop around a neighbouring housing estate this morning, not used before, and two other often-used loops. This brought me over the 3 miles. People are out and about, the butcher's is open with the bags of spuds resting on the window. Women (mostly) are chatting on corners, pre-school children eye each other up from the safety of their buggies. An elderly lady joins them. Vans are unloading, there's the electronic beep of money emerging from ATMS. The day has begun here in Co. Kildare.
It's grey, but warmer than it has been. I'm not sure if I conveyed this to the International readers, but our May has been colder and wetter than our April. There have been days when it was only 10 or 11 celsius. We are promised some heat in the coming days which is a bit scary when you are facing a marathon, however, it seems there will be a cooler breeze from Sunday onwards. It looks like Marathon day will be bright, but not too hot. Couldn't be better.
I attempted to run a bit faster from the outset, this morning, but should know better at this stage. I am a slow starter. It feels awkward and 'jerky' when I try that in the beginning. Far better, to start slower, use shorter steps and let the system open up until I find a steady, strong pace which flows along in its own smoothness. I am not a sprinter!
That got me thinking about the things I have learned about running (mine only) in the last few months. There are simple things, like running with my hands open rather than in fists, which would be my default position. It's cooler, I quite honestly relish the breeze around my palms. I've learned that, over distance, some socks work better than others. They should not be too thin and cottony or I will get blisters; neither should they be too thick because my feet will get too warm. I heard a story over the weekend of someone who wore a brand new pair of socks, gifted by his wife, on the morning of hs first marathon and doubled his time! He got severe blisters. I have learned that the bent-shoulder-bum-out position which many long-distance runners fall into is known as the bucket position. I try to correct this as I run, from time to time. If I didn't, I would have a very stiff back and shoulders early on. The next point is a bit personal, but will make sense when you think about it. I avoid putting on body lotions, face creams (except sun cream on exposed spots like ears, nose and neck) before long runs. The chemicals combine with the heat and salts excreted through the pores to give a urea-like stink. I'm told that I'm the only one who notices this?! Finally, I have come to see food as nourishment. This may seem like a statement of the obvious, perhaps, but it is different to look at a food and see it as 'fuel' or as a nutrient that helps repair or build muscles. I inevitably drift towards the fruit, vegetable and fish counters which, in truth, I can be lazy about. While I love to cook for others, I can be a bit lazy about my own daily meals. I did read about that in one of the running narratives I read, but know exactly what it means ... at the moment. For me, this realisation will come and go; I'd hate to be that serious about it all the time.
That's just a sample of the practical things I have learned. I am trying to think what are the 'life-lessons' and I'm not so sure really. There are transferable skills. I have learned to recognise the phases of a long run, including the bit where you 'get mad' or 'defeated' and it requires a bit of discipline to overcome. I probably always had that, but with the running I am practising it more and with practice comes ease. There is something else and it's kind of big for me. I'm a fright for living in the future. Even this morning, we were talking about retirements (I wonder why?) and commenting on how much or little time is left and what can be achieved in that length of time. Then, as if from nowhere, I am reminded of a moment in the Phoenix Park during one of the long runs when, at the half-way mark, I tried to congratulate myself on getting that far and found it meant little ... in a good way. All I knew was that moment, a moment in which I happened to feel strong and smooth as I ran. I can only run one moment, one mile at a time. As someone who frequently sees the mountain rather than the constituent parts, this was quite a breakthrough. When I struggle over an article, feel that I haven't enough undisturbed time to let the 'creativity' flow, feel there are too many things to do, want to be somewhere else doing something else, I find myself moving into that moment of realisation again: 'I have only the now' and what must or can I do in the now? It seems so trite and new-agey when I write it, but it means something 'from the inside' to me. Finally, perhaps most importantly, running is fun, is a hobby, is an interest and the energy it generates can infuse the rest of my life.
Of course, the trouble with life lessons is that we have to learn them again, and again, and again ... ad infinitum. In the words of Buzz Lightyear: "To Infinity and Beyond."
I should correct it in the blog, but it's kind of funny. The elderly lady joins the chatting women, not the children in the buggies!!!
ReplyDeletebut isn't part of the point that running is just simply putting one foot in front of the other as fast or as slowly as you can do, for as long as you can manage, and that it doesn't need a philosophy? It is, in the end, just a thing that you can train your body to do, just as a child trains itself to eat or check an impulse? it's no easy, but it is pretty simple
ReplyDeleteI like your lesson re living in the moment - too often we are rushing ahead or dwelling on the past. It resonates with Eithne's post about meditating during her infusions. It's mindfulness and wonderfully beneficial. Children practise it all the time just enjoying and taking everything possible from "the moment" but unfortunately we lose the gift somewhere along the way.
ReplyDeleteLove your Buzz reference - here's hoping you don't get "a snake in your boot" on Monday! Good luck.