... Maybe we’ll turn back the hands of time
Let’s go round again
One more time (one more time)...
‘Run every day’ I thought
“Run every day” I said
Run every day, I did.
For 44 days straight, until circumstances got on top of me and I, disappointingly, crashed and burned.
Still, it’s the longest run streak I’ve ever had, so I’m kind of pleased about that. There were days I really didn’t feel like running at all, but I pushed on, and, admittedly assisted by Clair at times, I still got out there and got the job done, so I’m kind of pleased about that. I’ve shown some grit, shown some tenacity, shown a level of determination towards running that I didn’t know I had. Can’t say as I’ve been enjoying running like I used to, but then I’ve been relegated to the roads, same roads most days, and round here it really is pancake flat.
I’ve battled through some horribly controversial days at times, I’ve endured circumstances that would have got the better of me in times gone by, and I’m quite pleased that I’ve snatched those little victories when life has had me on the ropes. Clair’s hospitalisation with that kidney infection she had has perhaps provided the sternest test so far, well, either that or being the victim of an assault, but I still managed to run every day even through that. Don’t worry, I defended myself, and nobody really got hurt.
I fought hard to get to those 44 days, so I’m really cross with myself that on day 45, and there’s a certain symmetry, certain irony, in that number, I’m annoyed with myself that I let that days circumstances defeat me.
Yes it was a hard day. Yes I felt tested, once again, to my absolute maximum, but looking back on it now if I’d got up and got out for a run in the morning, then the day wouldn’t have been able to make me feel as low as it actually did, and my streak would not have been stolen from me.
Be stronger, or get up earlier! That’s the message I’m taking from that.
So on day 45, one day for every year of my life, it turned out that my age (in a way) was to be my undoing. What do you do when your age counts against you like that? Well, you dust yourself down, re-assess your goals, and you start all over again.
Day 46 in one sense, day 1 in another. I finished up the overtime I was doing at work, and headed off to the hills. A run up Moel Famau and along that Clwydian ridge, clear the mind a bit ready to take on life once again. The “and along that Clwydian ridge” part never happened, but hey, it got me back out and running again, and at least I know I can still drag my fat ass up a hill.
It hasn’t been all bad news. There’s been hugely positive things that have happened too. Clair has bounced back from her illness and got started in a new job, which she seems to be far happier with than the one she had before. The overtime I was working related to the continued expansion of the business I work for, and that can’t be doing my own prospects any harm. In-fact, I have a real good feeling that opportunities are looking good, and I’m really quite excited about the prospect of challenging myself in new ways as the company continues to grow.
Back on the theme of running though, when I started on April 26th I had a vision in my head of following in Ron Hill’s footsteps - running at least a mile every day and doing it until we have our lovely meet up in Snowdonia on that weekend of the changing of the clocks.
Disappointing that I’ve fallen off the horse, but I did what all the best jockeys do, I brushed down my breeches and got right back in the saddle. Moel Famau was the perfect way to do it.
Do better than 44 days this time. That’s the goal right now. It’s only one run I’ve missed, and it was only 7 miles. As long as I stick at it, they’ll come back to me pretty quick will them.
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