Runners talk good sense

The more I find blogs, articles, forums and the like about running, the more I like the running community. They are honest. They might procrastinate as much as the next man or woman (actually, probably more so), but at least they're up-front about it, rather than hiding it like a chocolate-bar-wrapper in the desk drawer. We can all keep moving the goal-posts - what is an excellent achievement to me (5K in 39 minutes without stopping, walking or keeling over) is small beer to the runner who is trying to get her PB down to 5K in under 18 minutes (what?!) - but that means that we can appreciate our own achievements, rather than feeling overawed by how far ahead the front-runners (forgive the pun) are.

I've browsed my way to Complete Running, and the most recent article (at the time of writing) speaks to me so clearly. Jank's article on Motivation is glorious.

He quotes Cory Doctorow (where do they get these names?!):

"Garbagemen never talk about having garbagemen’s block. Doctors never say, “I can’t do surgery today, I’m just not in the mood.” If it’s your job you have to be able to write when it’s time to write."

Running is like that - if you wait for the perfect weather, or have to have a complete and total set of gear absolutely every time you head out the door, you’re not going to make it.

The very first time I ran with Kim, we were actually booked for a PT session in the nice, warm, protected gym. She phoned me beforehand, said "we're going for a run. Bring something warm to wear." (This was in March.) We did it. It was fine - more than fine, actually - the first steps on a very important journey. And we did it on a cold, blustery, damp March day. So when I ran my two miles today - warm, sunny June, with skylarks overhead - so much the better.

It puts me in mind of when we came to Norfolk for the interview for these parishes. Late November, and a frankly disgusting day. We still loved the place, and still took the job when it was offered to him. We then came back just before Christmas; then again in early February; in early March; and we finally moved in on (naturally) April 1st. Each of those three return visits was in weather as awful as the first time - in fact, the March visit was made in thick snow.

When we moved into the Rectory in April, it was a glorious day, and we knew we'd made the right decision. But then, we'd known that all along. Because we didn't wait for the right conditions; it was the right place. And that's where I am now. Work, tense hamstrings, busy, bored, happy, depressed - none of them make any difference. What makes the difference is that I know that I can make my own difference.