Category: Training

Coming back to running is like re-reading your favourite book

Jess Guth8 Comments

I did something today I haven’t done for ages: Instead of walking to where I needed to be, I ran there. Ok so it was a mile and a quarter going the long way round to my Mum’s but just last week I would have dropped in on my way to or back from somewhere as I drove past or at a push I might have walked. It’s all downhill really and I walked back up… see what my brain is doing here? It’s focused on the negative, on the ‘I never do this’, the ‘I walked back’ and the ‘It was only a mile’. Well sod off brain because it was a rather marvellous mile and a bit.

I packed my little red rucksack with an extra top to put on for the walk back up, a few bits and bobs I wanted to take to Mum’s and a lunchbox filled with mince pies and then I set off in the rain and made my way down the hill. The rain was blowing in my face with the cold droplets nipping at my face but still my breathing settled quickly, movement felt smooth and my feet light on the ground. It felt like running. The good running, the running that makes you want to go out again and again. There was no tightness in my calves and no sore feet. I stopped thinking about running and my mind drifted off enjoying its own journey.

It’s quite amazing how much you can think about in roughly a mile and a quarter. I picked up a thread of a thought I had a couple of months ago when Kath and I drove up to Keswick and walked round Derwentwater. It’s about running and favourite books. The thought struck me again as I reached the bottom of Ilkley Road and turned left to continue down our hill: Once you have some experience of running, running isn’t something you have to start again as such. It’s like going back to an old favourite book. You might not remember the storyline, you might not remember details or what happens next or who is who but it’s nonetheless familiar and comforting. It’s also a little irritating because you’ve read it before and it feels like you should remember but don’t quite or you misremember and get something wrong but fundamentally things come back to you more quickly the more you have read the book. You can skim bits, you don’t have to read things in order, you could skip to a favourite chapter and go backwards to read it again later. Going back to running after having some time out is the same.

No really it is. The act of running is familiar. The movement, the feeling in my lungs as I get out of breath pushing up the slope, the relief of air being sucked in as it levels off, the instinctive placing of my feet (in still awful running form – but that will change) and the feel of my muscles working and eventually the reminder (though not today) that there are plenty of weak spots to be worked on as something or another begins to tighten or niggle. I know this, I understand this. I have been here before and I got from here to Dopey fitness and to more and more effortless running. But the purpose is not the race at the end of a training plan or to be able to run a mile in a certain time or to be able to keep going for a certain distance. That’s not a reason to run. Like reading where the purpose is not to finish the book but to savour the story, running is also about the story. If the story about getting from A to B on a single run or from A to B in terms of a fitness goal isn’t a good, happy, healthy and fun story then what’s the point of having got to B?

So here’s the story of today’s A to B. It was a mile and a quarter – roughly. I have no idea how fast it was because I still don’t feel like knowing. I didn’t wear my watch. The cold rain made me happy and I missed it when I turned the corner and it came from behind me. Running downhill was easy and I felt effortless until the last few steps of the slope upwards when I realised that I a) had no real idea of how I’d got there b) was quite puffed and c) was too warm in my waterproof jacket. I turned again, went down a little baby hill and a long very very slight downhill slope, the rain was back in my face and all was fine again. My whole run was set to the rhythm and sound of the mince pies bouncing about in their box in my bag as I ran and I laughed at the thought of them being bounced into tiny little pieces. Almost disappointingly they were fine. I crossed the road, sidestepped one and jumped another puddle, got to the traffic lights and caught a glimpse of my rainbow laces as I waited for the lights to change. I smiled and that smile carried me to my destination.

How was your story?

End of term, nearly end of the year, but maybe not the end of my #Run1000Miles journey?

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Well running is still more miss than hit. It’s not that I don’t want to run, I do. It’s not that I don’t want to do my strength exercises, I do. We already know I am the queen of excuses but it’s been more than excuses, it’s also been exhaustion, end of term madness and general work insanity. I am now off work for two weeks and trying to reclaim some of my sanity and headspace.

Yesterday I mostly did nothing. I started off much the same today but then, after having braved town and done the food shopping for the Christmas week, I made it out. Kath came with me to stretch out her legs again after her early morning 6 miler. We set out to do our sheep loop and I didn’t want to be beholden to a watch or a beep so I left my Garmin at home. I settled in nicely and felt pretty good even going uphill. Sure I felt pretty unfit and puffy but I felt comfortable plodding slowly. Just before a mile (I know the route too well to not know where the mile markers are!) I walked a little thinking that I would have a little rest before the slope up into the wood. As soon as we walked my calves tightened up and then my feet started hurting. Even stretching them out didn’t help much. So we walked up through the wood and down the golf course. Once we reached the canal I ran again and although my feet were quite painful I made the canal stretch of the loop with just a couple of short walks.

It wasn’t the beautiful effortless easy comeback run I dream about (yes yes I know) and it was frustrating to feel relatively comfortable running and then have to walk because of tight calves and sore feet. But it was lovely to be out and we saw a sparrow hawk which was very cool.

I have been thinking about the Trail Running Magazine’s #Run1000Miles Challenge over the last week or so. I am still not through 500 miles. I have about 4.5 to go so chances are I will make the 500 but at the start of the year the 1000 was on. I’m absolutely fine about not reaching 1000 miles but I suppose struggling with running has made me wonder whether to sign up again, whether I want to stay in the challenge Facebook group and if I have anything at all to offer the running community through this blog or anything else. I don’t honestly know. I haven’t posted much in the group but I have been reading posts and they make me smile often as well as marvel at people’s achievements in awe. I guess I haven’t posted or blogged much because I have been insanely busy or just haven’t had the headspace to think about what the write or the energy to run.

So as I have been typing this, I have realised that I absolutely do want to sign up again and that I miss interacting with the group and that I also miss the blogging that goes hand in hand with my running – so I guess that means I have to run and I guess that means Kath has to make me a new spreadsheet. That’s my Christmas present sorted then.

So let’s see what happens for the rest of the year and then let’s see what 2020 brings for the rollercoaster that is running.

“I got bored of rules”

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In my most recent therapy session which is a week or so ago now we were talking about some of the more creative things I am doing with my teaching for the coming academic year. As we were discussing those things I suddenly heard myself say “Well, I got bored of rules”. It’s quite a big statement that and I am sure it’s one we’ll come back to in my sessions but I’m not quite sure why or how but we didn’t linger on it and got side-tracked into something else. I don’t remember now. But that simple statement and how I had no idea I was going to say it, how I hadn’t thought about it and how it surprised me as much as anything in that moment have stayed with me. I’ve been thinking about it on and off since then.

I got bored of rules. Well yes I did but not recently. I think I probably got bored of rules a long long long time ago. I got bored of rules the minute I figured out that most of them make no sense, that most of them serve no real purpose, that most of them are bad rules. Was I a pain in the arse child that constantly asked why? I honestly don’t know – ask my parents. I am, like we all are full of contradictions though. I mean it seems a bit odd for someone bored of rules to study law, right? And perhaps even odder then for someone bored of rules to teach law. It’s also odd for someone bored of rules to have coined #MyRunMyRules as their running mantra. So here’s where the blog post splits – keep reading here for the running bit or click over to my academic blog for the other stuff.

“I got bored of rules” seemed to, in that moment, sum up so much of life. Sometime in the middle of the London Marathon – probably about when I picked my tired body off the tarmac around mile 15 – I was done with running rules. I was done with the unwritten and unspoken rules that you have to enjoy the achievement even if not the run, I was done with training plans, speedework, hill repeats and running familiar paths and loops. I hadn’t really realised just how done I was with the rules around running, even the ones I made myself until I said it out loud in the little quiet comforting space where I go for help to unswirl my mind. I have tried, with some success to free myself from some of the running rules which are not helpful to me: I try not to be ruled by pace. The rule that faster is better doesn’t apply to me. I try not to be ruled by distance – I don’t have to go further and further or higher and higher. But fundamentally my rules are still rules. I must run. Running is good for my mental health so I must run. But I don’t want to. But I also don’t want to not want to run. I want to want to run. If you’re rolling your eyes – welcome to my world, I roll my eyes at myself all the time.

So what about running without rules, without a watch, not setting a distance, choosing routes with options and just seeing what happens. Ah yes, those runs. Those runs have hidden rules. They’re the runs I must enjoy. They’re the ones to rediscover the why and the fun and the love of running. That’s what they are for. But at the moment I don’t like them. I don’t like feeling like I have to rediscover a love of running I never really had in the first place. I have vague memories of quite enjoying the odd run and not hating running but… Anyway running just seems so full of rules, so full of things I ought to be doing or not doing. So not running is the obvious solution isn’t it. Finding something else that I want to do which gives me some of the same benefits. Well yes but while I don’t actually want to run I also very much don’t want to not run. I miss running while at the same time hating every step of every run I am doing at the moment. And while I am somehow pushing back against all the shoulds, musts and ought tos in all sorts of areas of my life I am also craving the discipline of a running programme.

I want to follow sensible rules. I want a programme to tell me how far and how fast I should run on any given day. I want the programme to make the decision for me. I want the rules there, on my wall planner and I want to tick each run off with a little sticker and more than anything I want to break the rules. I want to do Wednesday’s run on a Friday and cheat on the hill repeats and add a mile on on Sunday and skip the speed session altogether. I don’t know what any of that means. “I got bored of rules” somehow says everything and nothing about how I feel about running right now.

On being half way – or not

Jess Guth2 Comments

Ok, well, we are half way through the calendar year. Nearly at the end of another academic year and nowhere near where I wanted to be in all sorts of ways. Earlier in the year I was storming ahead with ambitious research plans for my sabbatical, more ambitious plans for all the other things I’d do while not caught up in teaching and administration at work and with my bid to run 1000 miles this year. After a super successful December of running clocking up over 100 miles, January was the same (helped of course by Dopey) and then February and March also came close to the 100 miles mark. April was a little lower with tapering for London but still I clocked up nearly 60 miles. May and June were rather crap – I came in under 30 miles both months.

It’s not that I have just been sitting on my arse – although I have done rather too much of that too! So I didn’t run much in May, oh well, it was just after a marathon, perfectly justifiable rest. June – well, I started with some Washington DC running but then didn’t do much else. The running was all tourist running with lots of stops and excuses to catch my breath and if that didn’t work, I could always blame the heat. We did a few good walks on the rest of the trip and a couple of runs at Chesapeake Bay. Then we got home and I did nothing. I nearly pulled out of the Solstice Saunter on the 21st June because I didn’t like the idea of running 5 hilly miles on basically no training.

However, I did go do the Solstice Saunter and it was a beautiful run. It was hard but I ran quite a lot of it and just walked the hills really. I was expecting to be significantly slower than the year before but even with my stops for a few pictures along the way, a chat at the water station and walking the hills I was only about 5 minutes slower and I very much enjoyed it. Then I did no running for the rest of the month. I did do the 10k Leeds Legal Walk on the Monday after and I went to Pilates class on Wednesday and then we had a lovely 10 ish mile walk yesterday.

We drove up to Malham and parked up and walked to the cove. There were a few people about but not many and for a little while we had the cove to ourselves. We lingered and listened to the gentle gurgle of water and the birds. Then we made our way up the steps at the side of the cove to the top. We stopped to help some kids with a map who then got told off for asking for help. At the top of the cover we waited for the kids to get going and as we were about to set off a peregrine gave us a lovely little display before flying off into the distance. We crossed the cove and started our descent on the other side and because we were chatting went the wrong way.

We realised after about half a mile and doubled back and got ourselves back onto the pennine way and made our way onwards to Malham Tarn. There we sat at the water’s edge with a sausage roll enjoying the views before moving on. We headed towards Gordale Scar and started making our way down. I don’t really like down. We got to the first water fall and talked to a couple of people coming up – they said the next bit was wet and slippery and technical. We decided to turn back. When we got back to the top we had a little sit down and a look at the map. We knew where we were exactly but the path we thought we should take next rather than going all the way back to the road didn’t seem to be on the map. We took it anyway.

We walked along the ridge and eventually made our way down into the valley and bought an ice-cream at ‘Gordale Refreshments’. It was lush. We walked with it to look at Gordale Scar from the bottom. It confirmed that we made the right call not coming down the last bit. Lots of people were going up it and there was a bit of an audience and it was definitely wet and looked a bit steep and slippery. Up might be a possibility for another time but I am not sure I’d want to climb down it.

From there we walked on to Janet’s Foss and then back to Malham for a coffee and a chip butty and the Old Barn Cafe. It was a lovely lovely walk. We did very little for the rest of the day. Today was a complete waste of a day really. I never got going and got naff all done. At lunchtime Kath dragged my sorry butt round our sheep look and in spite of initially being anxious about actually running and finding it very hard it was good to be out and running. July starts more positively on the running front.

So half way. I am at about 420 miles. So about 80 miles behind my mileage target. I am disappointed. I started the year ahead and I let that slip. But I also think I can probably catch up if it turns out I want to. I’m not sure I do. I enjoyed the run today and I feel ready to run more again now but I might change my mind next time I run. So I am half way to wherever – it doesn’t matter. Let’s just see where I get to – miles, work stuff, other stuff. Or at least that’s what I keep trying to tell myself. In reality though I am grumpy. I am grumpy about the first 6 months of the year. I am grumpy about things not done and fitness lost and at the moment they are the things dominating my thoughts rather than the things achieved. Hm

‘Everyone is at exactly the pace they are meant to be’

Jess Guth2 Comments

Well, honestly, I have been struggling a little with running post marathon. It feels like a huge effort and while it has sort of been nice to be out, I haven’t massively enjoyed it either. This morning was gorgeous though and it seemed like a good day to head to Bolton Abbey and do a little loop. Kath went further to get her miles in (she has a half marathon in mid June which I am not running) and I decided I would do the Barden Bridge loop using run/walk. I wanted to enjoy it and not worry about huffing and puffing my way around.

Bolton Abbey was perfect for running this morning. It was warm enough to be comfortable in short sleeves but the trees provided cover from the sun. It was also very very quiet. After the usual pee stop I said bye to Kath as she set off in the opposite directions and plodded my first 2 minutes. That felt a bit like hard work. I was grateful for the walk break. I tried to consciously look around, note the green ground cover from the wild garlic, the odd patches of blue from the bluebells, now at the end of their glory and the comings and goings of lots and lots of little birds. I tried not to think, just react to the beep of my watch – run – walk – run. Don’t think, just be.

I watched the river gently make her way, nudging the ducks to where she wanted them and giggling softly as the ducklings tried to resist. I felt content. I hit a mile and glanced at my watch. Wowsers I was going super slow. It felt like I was working so much harder than the pace would suggest. I felt disappointed. I carried on. I was now conscious of my breathing, I seemed loud, I seemed heavy footed, I could hear my heart beat and the blood rushing round. I could also hear the negative chatter. For the next mile I concentrated hard on ignoring the noise, on watching a dipper and a wagtail and on putting one foot in front of the other: Beep – walk, beep-run, beep-walk…

I briefly stopped at 2 miles – on Barden Bridge where I saw the first human since leaving the Cavendish Pavilion. I let two cars cross the bridge, took a couple of photos and continued, feeling slightly grumpy about being slow and now struggling to enjoy the run. It felt like all I could hear was my running noise and chatter about how crap I was. I don’t know what drew my attention but it suddenly occurred to me that there were so many far more positive noises I could be tuning into. Whatever it was, it made me listen and suddenly the bird song grew louder, the gentle breeze was singing in the trees and next to me the river was gurgling and sounding content.

‘Hello’, the river goddess Verbia whispered to me ‘how’s the running love?’ I don’t know why she has an accent like my grandma’s but she does – very West Yorkshire with slight hints of Lancashire in the vowel sounds from living so close to the border all her life. ‘Oh, it’s nice but it’s slow and feels so hard’ I said – not out loud I don’t think. ‘Oh, but why rush?’ She gurgled. It was rhetorical of course ‘ Look around, everybody is just at the pace they are meant to be’. She was gently teasing me I think. Nudging me along, letting me know that I was ok but as with any goddess, you just never quite know, there’s always a mystery, always an edge. She seemed all knowing and a bit bemused by me as she made her way slowly along the familiar path. But I did look around, I saw the cows in the field lazily chewing the grass, I watched some sand martins (I think) play around me seemingly flying high, swooping down and looping round for the pure joy of it. I giggled, Verbia gurgled back.

I saw a very speedy runner with a dog come towards me. She was past in a flash and briefly I felt crap about being slow and so laboured. ‘But you’re not her’, I glanced at the river and understood. Me and the other runner were each running our own run, with our own thoughts and our own battles. I smiled, I was enjoying the run again, the pace seemed unimportant now. I nodded a thank you towards the Wharfe as I turned very slightly left to go past the aqueduct steps and onwards into the woods.

I saw Kath. We stopped briefly for a quick chat and then continued on our ways. I had about 1.5 miles to go now, she had about 3. There were a few more people about on this stretch, not many though and mostly I ran in glorious solitude with time and space to notice the different greens, the changing feel of the footpath, the nobblyness of the tree roots. I ran the intervals as they fell, no cheating and it felt hard but my head was in the right place. It wasn’t even that I used mantras or tried to drown out the negative with positive chatter. It was just that after my little ‘chat’ with Verbia it felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing this morning. Like this was my time to run, my time to be at each point along the way exactly at the time I got there. Just as the Wharfe meandered along with a calm inevitability, so did I. I felt slightly disappointed when it was over. I even briefly considered going on in spite of feeling physically quite tired and being a bit of a sweaty mess but arriving at a gate and the bridge back across the Wharfe to the Cavendish Pavilion which seemed busy with people had broken the spell. The magic had gone even if some of it has lingered all day.