On Saturday evening I arrived home from a long drive back from Sussex, having been eating food at a BBQ all day. Well I say food. Mostly cake.
I was tired out. I didn’t want to do anything other than sit on the sofa and perhaps enjoy a nice cold beer. My wife and I had put our girls to bed, and we were all set for a night of doing as little as possible.
As I wandered into our bedroom to change into some trackies a strange thought came over me. “Why not go for a run…….?” As soon as it popped into my head it seemed like the obvious thing to do. I had been eating cake all day, hadn’t done any exercise for almost 2 weeks and a run would do me good. It appeared that I actually wanted to run. My brain seemed to be telling me that I would rather go for a run than sit on the sofa and drink beer.
I found myself changing into my running gear in a trance-like state. Before I knew it I had said goodbye to my wife, had strapped my trusty Luna Sandals to my feet
and was out of the front door, running my regular 7km route. Despite having a relatively full belly and being hugely dehydrated I was running well. I wasn’t watching my pace on my running watch, I was just running.
Reaching the halfway point on the run I decided to take a different route home as I fancied running a bit further than I had planned. Quietly, in the back of my mind I could hear a voice faintly saying “What the hell is wrong with you Snooky?”. But there was nothing wrong with me. I was just running. Running for fun. And I was enjoying myself.
Now obviously I have enjoyed running in the past, but Saturday seemed to be different. I just felt good running. Comfortable. Like it wasn’t an effort anymore.
Continuing on (and getting a bit lost) I eventually found a road I recognised and headed home. I had run almost 11km at an average speed of 6min/km. That used to be close to my maximum speed. Now it appears it is just my normal running speed.
This change in me, this love of running, I really hope it is here to stay.