February has arrived

[marathondan]

February has arrived! Better late than never. My first run for 12 days last night. And I’m glad to report that it wasn’t just to book some miles on a training log (as if), but because I simply HAD to get out. The days of being able to feel the wind in my hair are long gone (to paraphrase Dilbert: to do that, I have to take my shirt off and run around with my arms in the air) but that was the effect that I craved – to get close to the elements, to feel the familiar rhythms of lungs, heart and feet.

I did play football earlier in the week (9-7 win for the B team, one goal to me) but it’s not the same. As Bierzo Baggie recently alluded, that’s something of a headless chicken activity. There’s none of the controlled, contained, smoothly continuous workrate that is required of a comfortable training run.

So anyway, I’d been looking forward to it all day, and it didn’t disappoint. My usual 4.5 mile suburban circuit, taken in reverse – always a nice way to revitalise a tired route (funny how you never realise how long the downhills are until you do them the other way…). Afterwards, with the promise of a luxurious lie-in until 6 am (I’ve decided the 5 am starts are bad for my health) I was sufficiently energised to do an hour or so’s glosswork in my son’s nearly-finished bedroom.

As always, the concept of being energised by running is a strange one. Most people would expect the natural reaction to be to fall into bed, knackered. To me, one of the great joys of running (training, at least) is knowing one’s capabilities and running within them, rather than just running oneself ragged.

Somehow I doubt that the weekend will provide further opportunities, but we shall see.