Growth

I like to run, just get out and run, Forrest Gump kind of like to run. I cannot go as far as Mr Gump, I have a wife, job and bills to come back to. These things demand my attention in one way or another after about an hour of running. Oh, and the next day's aches and creaks. I don't worry too much about those while I am in Gump-mode, but, I should. They always hit me hard the next day. Focus!

Why is it that when one (what if it is just me?) Why is it that when I do something I 'enjoy' there seems to be an innate (and somewhat society expectation driven) desire to excel? Expound: I like to run, when I am in my best running place, I run like Vincent in the movie Gattaca, without saving anything for the trip home. There is no concern for time, distance, pace and the like. It is me, music and the pavement. My ragged breathing factors in there, alongside my screaming muscles and the stitch in my side that accompanies at times. I can stay in this place for a couple of weeks if I am lucky. When I leave, I do not know I am leaving until long gone.

"Are you running these days?"
"Yes, I am! I ran 5 miles yesterday."
"Really, what was your time?"
"Don't know, I do not keep track."
"You should, so that you know if you are getting better or not."
"Maybe I will."

So I start watching time and distance.I start doing repeats and drills and before long it is a chore. It is a thing I have to do because I promised someone I would run a race with them and get an award like I did last year. (So you know I wasn't great last year, there were three people in my division and I got silver. Here are the times; 1st - 15:51, 2nd - 23:30, 3rd - 35:02. Is that an award for running well or just an award for running? Strictly speaking I do deserve every bit of the silver plated plastic. You run once, get an award for showing up and then you need one for every run, it's bad, it's not just me).

My point; I like to run, I hate training, yet if I run the way I like, I do not do well at races because I am unable to push myself harder to go further, faster.

"Then just run like you like and don't race," you say.
I concur, why is this easier said than done? It feels wonderful to prepare for something and see it through, however grueling. It feels good to have your name in the paper a day after you bring your someone special a cheap trophy along with your runner's funk and gag-inducing T-shirt. It feels great!

I should go and ride my bicycle instead.