A blog you say? Even more self-involved and narcissistic than Twitter you say?
A while ago, I very much enjoyed a mate’s musing on running. More recently, I was having a chat with another friend who has also just started a blog. And it seemed like a good idea… I do things that most people just don’t get. No-one’s offended by it, but I know people feel distanced from me by the very oddness of some of my activities.
And if truth be told, sometimes I don’t get it really.
Why I am trying to figure out when I can get a 20mile run in this week? Why am I weighing up if I should do that run and rest, or do it and hit the gym the same day for the added benefit? The simple answer is that I know it’ll improve my marathon time. Beyond that, I hit a wall, explanation-wise. I won’t win that marathon. At best I’ll prove to myself I’m as good as quite a lot of other people. In doing so I’ll deny myself all sorts of good stuff; stuff like getting wasted and not thinking about it. Spending a day on the sofa watching bad TV. The simple pleasure of getting on a train, reading the paper and not having to put in any physical effort to get somewhere.
So I’m going to try and explain, to myself, and to anyone in the ether who cares, why someone like me swims, cycles, and runs every spare moment I can. Because secretly, I think there’s more to it than meets the eye. Since I started running, and swimming, and cycling, I’ve travelled more than I ever used to. I’ve met people, and I’ve learnt things about myself. I’ve gone from an averagely healthy bloke to someone who feels strong all the time. And I’ve experienced more moments of pure pleasure than I have any right to.
Because once in a while, you’ll be running through snow, and it feels like a John Woo film. Once in a while, you’ll outsprint someone to the line and all you can hear are people shouting your name. Once in a while life drops away and leaves you feeling truely alive.
Now where are my trainers…