I’m back to proper running this week. After the Eiger race, I had a few days of no running at all and then a few little tentative plods. And then I really started to miss it, so things are back to normal.
I have a couple of races earmarked for the autumn and winter, and a couple of trips to the Lake District which are in the early planning stages.
I also have a coach who is helping me prepare for next year’s big birthday adventure. I won’t know if this is truly doable until after those Lakes trips, but given she knows how fast I run (or rather how not very fast!) and the fact that so far she hasn’t said don’t be ridiculous, I figure it’s not beyond the realms of possibility.
While I was away, I had a lot of time to reflect on my running and how I feel about myself and my body. Getting timed out during the race was not unexpected but it was still pretty tough, and for a few days after I did wonder if I was just being silly with this whole running thing. Working so hard to be so slow. Stressing about cut-offs rather than enjoying my surroundings. All my spare time and money and energy (and more) being taken up with training. Maybe I was just kidding myself after all, and I needed to find something else.
Out in Grindelwald, I was surrounded by mountains, and I felt the urge to start rock-climbing again. To stretch out and to use my body in a different way. To think about moving and striving for different things, to solve different problems along the way. My flexibility has all but disappeared thanks to the constant pounding of running, and I miss being bendy and strong.
A little voice reminded me I had seen a circus school in Glasgow a couple of years back and fancied going along. I decided this would be the first thing I would look into when I got back.
I have loved what I have been able to do so far, I’ve been a little surprised by what I can’t do (yet), and I have found something else I want to devote some time, energy and commitment to. It asks different things of me, and gives different things back, and I need that.
But after my break, I still wanted to run. There are some changes to make, but I still want to run.
Last weekend, I met a fellow small person and steady runner friend for a trip up a favourite hill. I felt stronger than I expected, and I ran more than I thought I would.
Sometimes when I am out in the hills, I ask myself whether I really do love all this or whether it’s something I feel I should love, maybe because of all the social media posts that tell us how important nature is and how we can find all the answers we need out there etc. Maybe it’s just the accounts I choose to follow (and continue to follow because I really enjoy them) but the positivity can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. The side of things that says, hills and mountains (and life itself) are awfully hard work and they test us in ways we don’t always expect, well that doesn’t seem to be such a loud voice.
But standing on the side of Meikle Bin with my friend and the canine assembly, I felt really happy to be back there, and in better shape emotionally and physically than the last time I’d climbed that hill. I did feel real love, love for that view down the hill looking out towards Loch Lomond, and that spot, and for the many happy memories of some of the people I’ve shared that hill with. Love for the life that I have built here, and for the generally sunny outlook that I am able to maintain even when the chips are down.
It was a hard run and it took a long time for my breathing to really settle down. Things have been stressful lately and my fitness has suffered a bit from the post-race break. But with about half a mile to go, when we were almost back at the car, I felt something I haven’t felt for a long time.
I call it rasp-free running, where my lungs and brain finally settle down and there is no asthmatic breathing death rattle noise and everything is in total harmony and I am just breathing in and out and not thinking of anything else apart from that.
Breathing in, breathing out, heart beating, legs moving, being a part of the scenery that is passing.