Building on worse than before

This weekend I managed to run again in the Sewerby Park Run - it might be three times in a row, or at least twice. It was easier than last week, and I achieved a faster time: 22:15. I slowed down somewhat at the start, and attempted to speed up about half-way on the grass. The entire time a 12-14 year old boy - who can't have been taller than 5'3" - was in front. It was only when I opened up my stride going downhill that I finished ahead of him. He will be stronger and faster quicker.

My times are slower than before, but this course is difficult. It is uphill for a fair distance, and on grass. It has several steep 90 degree turns. But it is not three minutes slower. I saw a picture of myself running in Sheffield about 18 months ago, and my physique has changed.

So today I decided to try a run. I managed about one and a half miles at 10 minute mile pace, and walked the rest. I bounded a few hundred meters towards the end, but realised this: I have lost brute speed. But that is not a bad thing. I have never consistently endured impact training. Perhaps I never will. But to build my muscles to sustain regular impact is an impressive aim for my glass ankles.

I will aim to simply beat the 22:15 next time. That is my aim. Unfortunately, this is perhaps easier said than done, what with the inaccuracy of my garmin on the course. But it is an aim nevertheless. And it is more of an aim than simply running it.

Besides my running, this week has brought some interesting developments with those around me. Where running is useful, and perhaps where I don't speak enough of on this blog, is how it makes you keep going when you do not want to. Of appreciating your limits, and of the different experiences when pushing yourself to those limits.

For example, I can't remember the last time I felt physically stressed. In my running, I aim to work myself into a state of determination. Should I feel that sense of physical urgency at work or play, I don't seem to attribute that to a negative stress.

Another example: in running, I feel like stopping several times. But I have another awareness, of whether my body entirely requires me to stop. And so between those two places - avoidance of pain, and the conscious effort to suffer it - running is something I need to become more than the man I am now. And, as the teacher I want to be, to be the man that puts his life where his mouth is, so to speak.

Slow

I am slow right now. But when I was fast, I was fast for a short time, and then slow. At least now I am perhaps somewhat more paced.

There will never be a time that running is not painful, or a time when I do not want to simply stop running. But to carry on when I want to stop is the reason I keep on running.

My times for many months have been atrocious. But my efforts have not been. My weight has gone from 12 stone to 11:10 - hardly a diet. Just my natural rhythms. I can lift heavier weights than ever, and I want to work my core.

There is no direction to what I am doing, but that I continue anyway means something to me.

Marathon Training

I have run a marathon. While there is obvious pride in that, I did not train like a marathon runner. Neither have I trained like that since. I am a sprinter.

I consider, though, any marking for four hours or as equivalent to a marathon run. You can do it, like I ran a marathon, on necessity. When that necessity is created under your own values, under no spotlight save that of your own making - there is something impressive within that.

But the issue with such running, as it is with such working, is that it is so arduous that no-one wishes to embark upon it with free will. It cannot become part of a routine.

And yet is routine something that the artist always despises? Routine begins things that they don't want to begin. The mind is like the body; it needs to be strained and damaged and battered in order for it to grow stronger. To train it too far beyond its abilities (to feel stress!) is no good. It makes a man shy away from such limits. But to use routine to push yourself slowly to your limit without ever moving beyond it; that is something worth admiring.

I have no goals with my running, save for the usual. I have no spotlight, save that which I choose to bring myself.

And I know that I need to strengthen my core more than anything else. That is my one daily routine.

Back after January

The usual concerns at this time of the year trouble me less. I visited the gym and found many earnest people with earnest resolutions working hard.

I found myself with some elastic energy back in my legs. Some ability to work my core. My weight is still between 11 stone 4 and 11 stone 10. But I managed to run a 50, 55, 60, 65, then with an 80 finish HiiT session. I write that more for myself than anything else. My heart rate hit 191 at its peak. Strangely, though, it wasn't overwhelmingly painful.

Today I managed to run slowly to town and back. That is the extent to which I want to trouble my body today. Tomorrow I'll head to the gym again, as I will do so again on Friday. On Saturday I'll run like hell. And then repeat. If I can get back into running well for the new term, I'll be happy.

I should write that over xmas last year I ran 7 x 8 minute miles in Wolverhampton during the snow. I did that without any fanfare; to be able to run like that now would be an immense achievement.