Sometimes, I find myself asking myself 'Why do I run?' Especially in the latter months of the year when the weather turns cold, daylight hours fade and the act of leaving the house in my running gear requires a lot more planning and orchestrating. 'Why are you going running?' asks my son, as I call goodbye to my family (who are usually cosied-up on the sofa), and step out the door into the chilly air.
'Why am I doing this?' I sometimes ask myself as I start out, plodding along the wet, narrow roads, trying to stay out of the camber and hurdling over potholes, puddles and horse shit.
I'd be lying to say I've never had a run where it's not been hard all the way through. But the good runs far outweigh the bad. The good runs are the reason I run. I like the way my body feels, post-run. I enjoy noticing the subtle changes in my body; muscles are appearing, wobbles disappearing. I love the sense of achievement I get at upping my mileage, at improving my time. When I run, my thoughts are uninterrupted and while I'm in that groove, possibilities are endless.
Here's what I now know about running that I didn't know 6 months ago: after about 20 minutes, it starts to feel good. My body finds its rhythm and I feel as though I am moving mechanically, without much effort. The endorphins have obviously kicked in at this point because sometimes I even feel elated and I sing along to my playlist (knowing that nobody will hear me on my rural run and think I'm a nutter). When it all clicks, I feel able to up my pace, often encouraged and buoyed up by the fact that I am out running, and running better than I ever have.
'Lead with your chest' I tell myself. 'Run tall. Head up. Breath.'
Why do I run? Because I love being a runner!
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