For lent this year I decided that rather than to give anything up, I would attempt to run 60 miles in 40 days. I did very well, I thought - until I acquired a small injury known as runner's knee. This unfortunately left me 20 miles short with 10 days remaining, and though, like a wounded soldier battling on, I pushed through an extra 4 or 5 miles from there - I was not to succeed in my little challenge.
Since then it has been a losing battle. I have barely been for a run since.
You have to bear in mind here that lent ended on 19th April. I had failed to meet my targets, and had therefore lost the will and reason to run.
Did I like that I'd lost weight? Yes. Did I feel healthier and more positive? Yes.
But I had failed.
I was never a keen long distance runner. I'd go so far as to say I have hated running in the past. I don't really enjoy it nowadays either, but I do understand the benefits.
Google tells me that resting for a few days is best for runner's knee, and so that is exactly what I did. 'A few days' is a matter of perspective. In a fortnight I'd say a few would be anywhere between 2 and 5 days. From when the injury occurred (roughly 9th April) I had successfully rested that knee for a total of 42 days. I decided to consider the term 'a few days' as something in comparison to 10 years. 10 years is equal to 3652 days, and so by comparison I'd say that 42 constitutes that 'few'.
In this time I did a lot of knee resting, working mostly on my ability to eat and play playstation - two qualities, I think you'll find, that are just as beneficial as running. I even bought the new Super Car in GTA 5 online. What an acheivement!
But alas, I cuoldn't put it off much longer - so on Wednesday I decided the time was right to venture out for that run. I knew I'd be rusty, but I strapped up the bad knee and set off before breakfast. I was only planning on heading out for a mile or two, but did entertain the idea of stretching that to 3 miles should I feel up for it.
Before too long, I noticed that I was not, in fact, up for it. My knee was fine, but the slight belly I'd acquired over the previous 6 weeks had made running a lot more difficult that I'd remembered. Had I really forgotten how to run?!
I managed about 200 yards before feeling out of breath.
'Pace yourself Joe' I thought 'it's not a sprint'
So I plodded on. I plodded right past some dog walkers and some runners heading in the other direction. I was overtaken only by cyclists, which is allowed (though I did try to keep up with one particularly slow cyclist lady) I ended up doing a painful 2 miles. I felt sick and as though I was going to collapse, but I was proud of myself. I'd done it after six weeks, I would surely get back into the running spirit now - but then the voice in my headphones told me that the pace I was going at was 30 seconds per mile slower than I had been on my last run. 30 seconds per mile slower at half the distance. Misery.
So here I am, sat at work contemplating my next run and ultimately finding excuses along the way.. "Oh no, I'll be hungover on that day" and "I can't possibly go out then, it'd make my day too long" etc. No motivation makes running particularly difficult.
But then I say "Bugger it! I'm gonna go and run tomorrow, and I'm going to hate it" - because running is there to be hated, but if I stop I'll have to start all over again - and I don't want that. And besides, there are no new Super Cars on GTA to buy just yet...
...and tomorrow comes along, I accidentally wake up too late and before I know it, 42 days have passed.
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