The run where it was a struggle
I’ve experienced this more than a few times over the years and still can’t predict when it will hit. I’m just thankful when it isn’t on a race day or coinciding with another important event. Such was the case on Saturday.
I arrived at John’s house at 7am and the plan was for a long run before parkrun. He had a route in mind that would be close to half marathon distance. The recent wet and windy weather had calmed and there was an autumn chill in the air as we set off from the ‘burbs.
Leaving Cheriton we made our way out towards the Channel Tunnel entrance but took a footpath into the nearby woodland. It always makes me feel so alive running through a natural tunnel of trees. Chestnuts cases were laid strewn on the muddy floor, their bright green spikey shells like small explosions of colour amid the brown dirt and fallen branches. The dim light cast faint shadows before us and the birds accompanied the pat, pat beat of our feet with their lilting descants.
Emerging from beneath the canopy we climbed a steep hill onto farmland and wove our way through a field of black and white cows with calves in tow. By now we were both feeling heavy legged despite a good night’s sleep, big breakfast and no alcohol the evening before. As we crossed the golf course and continued west through the affluent outskirts of Sandgate and Hythe I asked John how far we had come thinking it must be around 6 or 7 miles. When he told me we were only just coming up to 4 miles I couldn’t believe it. “4!!!” I burst out and we fell into silence, both focussing on the effort it was taking not to stop.
The worst thing to do when you are not feeling 100% is to stop. Once you have allowed yourself the luxury of walking once it quickly becomes a habit. The key is to keep going, however slowly or painfully and the battle is not an easy one.
Many philosophers have debated if the body and mind are separate entities. I’m no Aristotle but I do know that when running I have a definite sense that they are distinct entities and often in conflict. In order to run as fast or as far as I have over the years I have had to fight and win many battles.
The first is for the mind to dominate and impose it’s will on my body. This mental toughness must be nurtured and doesn’t come naturally. Thankfully I’m a stubborn git and so that makes it easier. Even so, when your body is telling you it is tired and fed up and wants to stop and is communicating this through pain and lethargy and lack of effort, it is not easy to defy it.
The second stage is when your mind decides it is going to side with the body. Often this is when it is also tired and fed up. Now you’re in trouble. So, if my mind and my body have all but given up how am I still running and not laying in a crumpled heap on the grass or getting in a taxi and going home to sit on the sofa?
My conclusion, for what it is worth, is that if I am not my mind or my body then I must be my spirit and it is that third part of the trinity that is now dictating events. At the time it is a dark and miserable place to be. The tiredness, pain, hunger and demoralisation (why do I do this again?), but when you think about it what an incredible place to be. That is pure self-control when you can defy both your mind and your body to make them bow to your spirit.
Now I am sounding like some autocratic despot! But in a way I think this is what you have to be if you want to push yourself to your limits. Now my limits may not be as far reaching as Mo Farah but I still want to know what they are and to do so I need to be hard on myself. For me the joy comes in overcoming the pain and fatigue. Ok so dictator and sadist – thank goodness I’m not sharing this with anyone….
Anyway, I digress. A little. Back to the run. While I have been rambling we have made our way down to the Hythe canal and are heading back towards Sandgate and Folkestone. We do stop on the seafront for a tactical stretch and immediately feel the benefit. A few more miles past the beach huts and we are directly below the parkrun start but still a few miles short.
To get to the full 13.1 miles we had to take a detour via the Harbour Arm, Sunny Sands beach and the steep climb of Remembrance Hill. We plodded to a standstill with the final 0.1 mile feeling like a marathon in itself. What a struggle.
It was five to nine and there was just time for a refreshment break before parkrun. A slow 24 minutes brought us across the line and we could finally go for coffee and cake. A very well-deserved reward. Even with a slice of blueberry and vanilla and a couple of flat whites in me I still laboured the two miles back to the car.
Last week we had run a hilly 24 miles including a fast parkrun with no particular adverse effects. This week 18 miles had been marked by a prolonged struggle. Next week? Who knows. But what I do know is that I will be back out there again, whether enjoying my run or getting a quiet satisfaction out of winning my battles with my own mind and body.
