New Year’s Day tomorrow, when a million new runners will be born. Like frog spawn, most won’t survive into February’s tadpole stage, and fewer still will ever know what is to leap between April’s muddy puddles, with the promise of summer to reward their persistence.
Runners who fall by the wayside before the end of January will moan about the pain, the hassle, the weather, the effort it takes, the lack of an instant reward and the hurdle of motivation. What they won’t know is that even seasoned runners grumble at pretty much the same things. The difference is that we’ve stuck around long enough to recognise the concomitant benefits, which are barely visible to the newbie plodder. Running is full of dividends, but they’re available only to those who keep faith in their investment.
Today was overcast and unwelcoming. If it’s like this tomorrow, half of those new runners won’t even manage that first leap from their front doorstep. Tip 1: There’s no relationship between how it looks out there at the beginning, and your eventual reward. Some of the dreariest days have witnessed the best runs, while the fairest and most promising have delivered only disappointment. Learn not to have expectations, because the reality will almost always reverse them.
Cold but not bitter, so I eschewed a jacket. Just shorts and teeshirt and cap. Tip 2: Dress for how you’ll feel 10 minutes into a run, not how you feel the moment you step outside.
Did the usual circuit of 3.5 miles, before heading off down the canal. I had a decision to make – just do the out and back route, or go for the hilly diversion? There’s an undulating half coming up at the end of January in Spain, and I quickly need to grow a bit of steel in these floppy quads. So it looked like the hilly diversion. But then a mile or so down the towpath, I thought no, the idea of the long run is to get those miles in and increase endurance. So I switched back to my flat out and back. Tip 3: There’s no law against changing your mind in mid-run.
It’s a while since I’d been down this far. There’s a water tap along the canal exactly 4.61 miles from home. There and back, plus the initial 3.52 miles, minus the short cut corner that results from cementing these two runs together, would add up to pretty much exactly 12.5 miles. Tip 4: Brush up on your mental arithmetic before starting to run. You’ll need it.
Not many people about, and those that were, weren’t too sociable. I passed four tittering teenagers issuing clouds of marijuana smoke, and a skinny runner who wouldn’t return my Shearer salute. Tip 5: Accept that 50% of other runners are miserable buggers.
Arrived finally at the tap, to find that the water had been turned off. Bad news. The final 4½ miles dragged, and the last mile was positively tough. But I made it, managing to run for the entire distance apart from the brief stop at the tap. Tip 6: Try not to run 12½ miles without water.
This was one of those ground-out runs, chilly and monochrome, but I knew before I started that this was all about building stamina and endurance, and I would have to hang on in there. It told me that I’ll have no trouble running the half marathon at the end of January, even though I may decide to shelve plans for a PB attempt. I’m building the distances again, but my speeds are poor. Maybe I’ll use Almeria as a training run, and have a proper go at the Wokingham half two weeks later.
Hot shower, then clean, warm clothes and a cup of tea. Felt like a king. Tip 7: Understand from the start that running is about deferred pleasure. It’s often hard to enjoy being out there, and we shouldn’t judge running on that. We should judge it by the tranquility of these grinning, post-run moments.
Happy New Year everyone.
