Re-re-re-re-re-starting my running, and I miss is how easy it used to be.
I don't miss being fast. Pace doesn't really concern me that much. My vanity misses the slight build and narrow waste. But deep down, I don't miss that stuff.
I miss being able to fall out of bed, early, and run. A brisk, refreshing 7.5 miler before work is a fabulous start to a day.
I miss runs when I wasn't consumed with thoughts about how shitty I feel, when running cleared my head of doubt and subversion, rather than fuel them.
What I miss most is being lost in the run.
Last weekend, on Sunday, was a 5K training run. I was pleased that I ran the entire 5K... no walking, no stops. Damn that sounds pathetic. Me 5 years ago would be aghast.
The course I ran was a few miles from my house. As I was driving back... hell, even as I was driving to the run, I looked at the sidewalk and remembered training runs along that very path, long morning runs during which I'd sleepwalk through a 5K, not noticing the houses or cars or anything... just covering mindlessly distance.
In those days, I would look to the horizon, to a point way off... and soon later I was at that point, without effort, with no noticeable passing of time. I was there, having previously been back there.
Then, a run was an escape to a peaceful place, not a workout, or a task.
To run that easy requires endurance, strength, aerobic fitness, and form that allow you to move smoothly, and to get lost in it, without distraction.
They are also hard earned, and easily squandered.
Sunday, I had ever brief moments of effortless running, thanks entirely to the memory, and contemplation, of easy running, and what it meant, and how I could explain it. And, how I could regain it for myself.
Again, the moments were brief, leaving more work to do, more running to do...
Good running,
Doug
