I ran today. It was foolhardy. The trail led up and up and up. I have a cyclo-cross race – the first in weeks – in two days time. It’s not the running up that causes the problem. It’s the running down. Two hours later and my quads feel like they’ve been rolled on by a rhino.
But I ran (up) today for a reason.
I’d gone out for a quick 25 min jog. A little loop around the block and back to the office. We’re lucky you see, the factory nestles in the verdant Sirhowy valley and enjoys fine views of wooded Welsh lumps. So….out I trot. Down the road, across the river and into the country park. As I entered, a leafy trail lured me, cajoled me, drew me in like an angler fish.
A brown strip of decaying leaves covered the rocks and stones and mud. The trail climbed. Going up steeply means coming down savagely (with all the muscle impact that implies). I know this. I know, I know, I know. But you know what? I simply didn’t care. Do I exercise solely to be fit for races? Or do I exercise to enjoy myself?
No brainer. Life is too short.
So my flat 25 minute jog, became a steep 50 minute fell run. As I sit here, I can feel my thighs throbbing. Tomorrow will be faintly awkward. I’ll lumber along clumsily, muscles complaining (‘You haven’t done that in ages!’). Sunday will mean racing at 85% instead of the CX prerequisite of 110. But today, the views were good, the run was good, I felt good. In a world where anything can change in the blink of an eye, that’s all you can wish for. A little slice of heaven, right there.
We lost a close friend to cancer recently. Take every day as it comes.