I run because it keeps me sane - as simple as that.
Without running, I spend too much time thinking. When I spend too much time thinking it does me no good. I tend to wake up early in the morning, especially when I have stuff on my mind. People say "Wow, that's great, you're so dynamic." Nope, no I'm not, I'm just rubbish at rolling over and going back to sleep. My mind starts turning over all the things I have to do and I start worrying and...bang...I'm wide awake. Since I discovered running, instead of tossing and turning, I stumble out of bed and rummage around for a t-shirt and shorts while my wife glares at me through closed eyelids (quite a talent). Bleary-eyed, I lace up my trainers, creep out the front door, and head off into the dawn. It doesn't take long before the only question in my head is "How far will my legs take me today?"
I really do love running. I love the sense of freedom and achievement. I love the sense of stillness in all that movement; finding myself in the eye of the storm. I love the all-day-smug feeling of "I did something tough this morning." Because running is tough, there's no denying it. Nobody sticks at it unless they love it because it's really bloody hard and, for a long time, you wonder if it's worth all the effort. For me it is.
I started running by accident. I was late to meet my wife for lunch and so I ran there. It was only a few hundred yards but I didn't throw up or die and I found myself thinking "Maybe this is something I could do." I was well in to my 30's and becoming increasingly idle and unfit so I started going out semi-regularly. I puffed and panted and sweated and walk-ran my way to 1 kilometre, then 5, then 10.
I went from being overtaken by pretty much everybody; from wondering if the last dog walker I waved to and grimaced at was going to call an ambulance for me; from hating every sweaty, breathless moment of it to getting occasional glimpses of "Oh, maybe this isn't so bad.". Those fleeting moments became more frequent and less fleeting. Some days I enjoyed most of my run and I started to look forward to going out. I stopped being overtaken by little old ladies and, once in a while, I did some overtaking of my own. I signed up for my first race (the Chestnut Tree House Littlehampton 10K, a great run for an amazing cause). I loved every minute of it (except the bits I hated because they were really hard) and completed it (though not without walking a bit), falling just short of my target time. The rest, as they say, is history.
I'm not a great runner, I never will be. I'll never jostle for position at the start line of a race, hoping to get the drop on the next guy so that I might win the race. That's OK though because I don't run to compete with others; I run to compete with myself, to better my last time, to best the fat little cherub* in my head who tells me not to bother; I run because it makes me feel good about myself in a way that nobody can take away from me.
I run because it keeps me sane.
So far, so good.
* The phrase "fat little cherub" is shamelessly plagiarised from one of my heroes, the brilliantly funny and often-suspected-of-reading-my-mind Matthew Inman of theoatmeal.com. Do find some time to read his online comics about running and find out all about the wretched lazy beast that is the The Blerch.
I started this site as a place to file my thoughts, somewhere to store the occasional insights that come to me.
Running provides the runner with lots of time to think, especially if you run long distances (or run short distances slowly). This isn't always the case - on a hard day, there's no room in your head for idle thoughts and the only activity in your mind is a slow and steady procession of markers...
Just one more mile...just to the pier...just to that lamp post...
Running has turned me into a running bore; I love to talk about running to anyone who will listen (or, at least, can't escape). When you talk about running as much I do, occasionally you think you're making sense. Sometimes you're rambling on to someone and they have a lightbulb moment and you think "Maybe that's worth sharing with other people." I hope that the ramblings on this site are useful to people because, if they inspire one person to keep going when they feel like giving up - to keep plodding on long enough to discover the simple joy of going into battle with something difficult and winning - it's all worthwhile.