I did it. All 23.1 miles of it. The Swaledale marathon. It was pretty hilly, it was very hot, and it was a blast. The best jam sandwich I've ever eaten at 13 miles, ankle-deep mud at 20 and a hot meal at the end. Today has been the first day I've been able to take the dog on a decent walk and come down the stairs without wanting to cry. It's been a long and hard road and I thought that running in snow and bogs was never going to end, but I did it.
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Wednesday, 12 June 2013
Thursday, 28 March 2013
Drifting
It is almost impossible to believe that we are at the end of March, past the spring equinox and enjoying the sight of new-born lambs. There is more snow here in North Yorkshire than there has yet been this winter and the Met Office "feels like" temperature has not yet topped zero.
A lot of snow fell at the weekend while we were away but the roads have been ploughed and travel is straightforward so I set off on Monday evening for a 12 mile run happy in the knowledge that the whole route was on roads. The last part of my journey was over the moor road behind our house crossing the Watersplash, made famous in the credits of James Herriot, and Surrender Bridge. It's not an easy way to run - there's a lot of ups and downs - but it is an easy way to navigate. I checked sunset time make sure I would be home in the light and set out, a little later than planned maybe, at 4.45pm. The first 9 miles were no problem, along the main roads, enjoying the views and not even minding about the gathering snow shower. I turned up the moor road, noting the sign to my village - 3 miles. I followed a tractor for a while and felt confident that if a tractor could get through then so could I. Then the tractor turned in to a farm and the road turned into a snow-drift. I was running into bad weather, up-hill, with 10 miles of tiredness in my legs, and suddenly realised that no vehicle had been over this road in a good few days. No 4x4 would get up here; I was knee deep in snow in places, walking quite slowly as I picked out signs of my route and getting colder as the dusk drew in. I took out my phone to take a picture of a snow-drift higher than my head and the battery died. Less than two miles from home I was aware that I was in a situation a whole load scarier than I had imagined!
As I plodded on, running when I could see the ground scoured bare by the wind, and trudging through the drifts where there was no road, I wondered if I should be more worried. I did have a rucksack with water, food and and extra jacket; there is a limit to how lost it is possible to get simply trying to get up one side of a hill and down the other; I knew there were a few houses dotted about, including the farm of the tractor driver; and while I could still walk or run, I was heading home.
From the warmth of my living room it became a bit of a story to tell but I am learning a lot about assessing the risks of an "easy run" in this new landscape - I never contemplated having moutain rescue called out on my behalf in Bushy Park!
We're going to head up on the moor after lunch with the children and have another look at the impressive and beautiful snow-drifts: I have never seen so much or so elegantly scuplted snow before. But we'll make sure we're home long before dark with tea and cake in front of the fire.
Pictures to follow...
A lot of snow fell at the weekend while we were away but the roads have been ploughed and travel is straightforward so I set off on Monday evening for a 12 mile run happy in the knowledge that the whole route was on roads. The last part of my journey was over the moor road behind our house crossing the Watersplash, made famous in the credits of James Herriot, and Surrender Bridge. It's not an easy way to run - there's a lot of ups and downs - but it is an easy way to navigate. I checked sunset time make sure I would be home in the light and set out, a little later than planned maybe, at 4.45pm. The first 9 miles were no problem, along the main roads, enjoying the views and not even minding about the gathering snow shower. I turned up the moor road, noting the sign to my village - 3 miles. I followed a tractor for a while and felt confident that if a tractor could get through then so could I. Then the tractor turned in to a farm and the road turned into a snow-drift. I was running into bad weather, up-hill, with 10 miles of tiredness in my legs, and suddenly realised that no vehicle had been over this road in a good few days. No 4x4 would get up here; I was knee deep in snow in places, walking quite slowly as I picked out signs of my route and getting colder as the dusk drew in. I took out my phone to take a picture of a snow-drift higher than my head and the battery died. Less than two miles from home I was aware that I was in a situation a whole load scarier than I had imagined!
As I plodded on, running when I could see the ground scoured bare by the wind, and trudging through the drifts where there was no road, I wondered if I should be more worried. I did have a rucksack with water, food and and extra jacket; there is a limit to how lost it is possible to get simply trying to get up one side of a hill and down the other; I knew there were a few houses dotted about, including the farm of the tractor driver; and while I could still walk or run, I was heading home.
From the warmth of my living room it became a bit of a story to tell but I am learning a lot about assessing the risks of an "easy run" in this new landscape - I never contemplated having moutain rescue called out on my behalf in Bushy Park!
We're going to head up on the moor after lunch with the children and have another look at the impressive and beautiful snow-drifts: I have never seen so much or so elegantly scuplted snow before. But we'll make sure we're home long before dark with tea and cake in front of the fire.
Pictures to follow...
Monday, 11 March 2013
So, I didn't do the race. I was all set to and just about feeling prepared. But the weather forecast was horrible - cold and windy and cold some more. It was an hour and a half drive away and then a bus ride, probably, as we weren't supposed to park at the race start. That meant over three hours in the car for all of us and the children and my partner waiting around for at least another two. If they dropped me at the race venue and went to the local town for breakfast, they may not have been able to get back to pick me up, necessitating a bus ride back for me, rapidly chilling off in my kit. It just didn't seem to be the spring day out I'd imagined when I booked a place in December.
But, this has been my main running goal since the New Year and was to serve as an important bench-mark, and, hopefully, an encouragement on my road to the Swaledale Marathon.
We opted for a simple solution. I ran 13.1 miles from a little way from home to our local town, via the road over the moor from Swaledale to Wensleydale. It's a tough route. Over the moor is not a phrase to be read lightly. It's up-hill, a long way, about 300m of ascent. And it was cold. And snowy. I did it. The children and my partner were there to greet me and congratulate me and we all went and had breakfast in our favourite cafe.
Did it count? Count for what? Was it cheating? Cheating what? It makes me aware of how much I hand my sense of achievement over to others, how much I desire some kind of official "approval" or certification. I ran the distance. I loved the views. I was happy with my fitness and my time. That is enough. But still there is a shadow of failure, a sense of not having done it quite right: I didn't actually do the race. I find it difficult to keep up my running without set goals and running is very much part of how I view myself - a fact which I am uncomfortable examining. It's hard to look at, as is the question of why I run: To be healthy? To stay slim? To impress? Because I enjoy the freedom? Because I feel good afterwards? Because it is an amazing way to get out and about into the countryside, the outdoors? Because it is part of how I view myself and I'm not so sure who I am if I don't?
Good reasons, bad reasons? The truth is that sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it. I'm not perfect and, like almost every other Western woman, I worry about my weight; I am also vain and competitive. But I do love running and I miss it when I'm actually prevented from doing it. Perhaps as I grow and mature (!) my reasons will purify or I will let go of this thing that has as much of a hold on me as I do on it. Or maybe I won't.
But, this has been my main running goal since the New Year and was to serve as an important bench-mark, and, hopefully, an encouragement on my road to the Swaledale Marathon.
We opted for a simple solution. I ran 13.1 miles from a little way from home to our local town, via the road over the moor from Swaledale to Wensleydale. It's a tough route. Over the moor is not a phrase to be read lightly. It's up-hill, a long way, about 300m of ascent. And it was cold. And snowy. I did it. The children and my partner were there to greet me and congratulate me and we all went and had breakfast in our favourite cafe.
Did it count? Count for what? Was it cheating? Cheating what? It makes me aware of how much I hand my sense of achievement over to others, how much I desire some kind of official "approval" or certification. I ran the distance. I loved the views. I was happy with my fitness and my time. That is enough. But still there is a shadow of failure, a sense of not having done it quite right: I didn't actually do the race. I find it difficult to keep up my running without set goals and running is very much part of how I view myself - a fact which I am uncomfortable examining. It's hard to look at, as is the question of why I run: To be healthy? To stay slim? To impress? Because I enjoy the freedom? Because I feel good afterwards? Because it is an amazing way to get out and about into the countryside, the outdoors? Because it is part of how I view myself and I'm not so sure who I am if I don't?
Good reasons, bad reasons? The truth is that sometimes I love it and sometimes I hate it. I'm not perfect and, like almost every other Western woman, I worry about my weight; I am also vain and competitive. But I do love running and I miss it when I'm actually prevented from doing it. Perhaps as I grow and mature (!) my reasons will purify or I will let go of this thing that has as much of a hold on me as I do on it. Or maybe I won't.
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Reviewing the Twelve - Numbers One and Two
I am still revelling in our connection to the internet; the easy access to information and communication is delighting me anew. We are thinking through our use of, and time spent on, the web and are planning to find a way to keep the space we have found through not having constant access while being clear and focussed about what it is we can use it for.
One thing that I have wanted to do since the end of January is to properly review the goals I set for myself - my 12x12. I wanted these to be a tool to guide what I put first in my plannning- "prompts to remember how I want to live." I could, of course, have reviewed this without needed to blog but I find the process of blogging helfpul and clarifying and the blog provides a space to record my thoughts.
My first goal was to host local neighbours to eat at the house once per month. This has proved easy so far, easy and natural. The friends whose house provided the base from which we grew to love and dare to think we might be able to live in this beautiful Dale have been over for lunch. Our next-door neighbours (who own the attached holiday cottage and actually live in Liverpool) have had dinner here: an evening full of laughter, wine, games and competitions to see who could hold a quiz card to their face by sucking for the longest! It was relaxed and fun. The friend who has taken us caving and helped us out with advice and practical jobs has had coffee and cake, lunch and dinner a good few times and is becoming a much loved and always welcome visitor. Somehow I find myself more relaxed, more outgoing, more willing to stop and spend time chatting. It is a change that I welcome and hoped for. It is how I want to live.
The next goal was to run 12 times per month. With a place in Run Northumbria- a half-marathon in just less that two weeks time- and the Swaledale Marathon in June, I am running habitally again and the need to count runs seems superfluous. I did manage a few more than 12 in January but not quite in Febuary: a week away, a nasty virus and fewer days than a usual month mean that I've only just reached double figures. But I'm fit and getting fitter and looking forward to a race and that's good enough.
One thing that I have wanted to do since the end of January is to properly review the goals I set for myself - my 12x12. I wanted these to be a tool to guide what I put first in my plannning- "prompts to remember how I want to live." I could, of course, have reviewed this without needed to blog but I find the process of blogging helfpul and clarifying and the blog provides a space to record my thoughts.
My first goal was to host local neighbours to eat at the house once per month. This has proved easy so far, easy and natural. The friends whose house provided the base from which we grew to love and dare to think we might be able to live in this beautiful Dale have been over for lunch. Our next-door neighbours (who own the attached holiday cottage and actually live in Liverpool) have had dinner here: an evening full of laughter, wine, games and competitions to see who could hold a quiz card to their face by sucking for the longest! It was relaxed and fun. The friend who has taken us caving and helped us out with advice and practical jobs has had coffee and cake, lunch and dinner a good few times and is becoming a much loved and always welcome visitor. Somehow I find myself more relaxed, more outgoing, more willing to stop and spend time chatting. It is a change that I welcome and hoped for. It is how I want to live.
The next goal was to run 12 times per month. With a place in Run Northumbria- a half-marathon in just less that two weeks time- and the Swaledale Marathon in June, I am running habitally again and the need to count runs seems superfluous. I did manage a few more than 12 in January but not quite in Febuary: a week away, a nasty virus and fewer days than a usual month mean that I've only just reached double figures. But I'm fit and getting fitter and looking forward to a race and that's good enough.
Wednesday, 2 January 2013
12x12
I love new year resolutions. The turn of the year presents the opportunity for me to reflect on how I want to be different and to make attempts to become what I want to be. There is a danger of the resolution becoming the law, exerting a pressure to be fulfilled that becomes an end in itself and no longer produces the helpful encouragement to change I would like; They need to be viewed as prompts to remember how I want to live. I am a sucker for patterns and themes and so have chosen 12 this year, either to be done once or twelve times a month:
1) to host local neighbours to eat at the house once per month (dinner, lunch, poetry tea, just a cuppa and a slice of cake ...)
2) to run 12 times per month
3) to bake 12 items per month
4) to choose not to use the tumble drier 12 times per month
5) to take my son out for a coffee and a chat about his latest writing project once per month
6) to practice navigation skills once per month
7) to take the children on a day-out once per month
8) to complete one painting project per month
9) to sort out one area of my personal admin once per month
10) to finish one book per month
11) to do one thing towards developing my workas a Breastfeeding Counsellor once per month
12) to blog 12 times per month
Together they are a mixture that encourages me to live the way I want to live: none feel over-ambitious and yet there is a challenge there to stop dreaming about how I want to be and to be that way, consistently, month in, month out for a year and see where that takes me.
1) to host local neighbours to eat at the house once per month (dinner, lunch, poetry tea, just a cuppa and a slice of cake ...)
2) to run 12 times per month
3) to bake 12 items per month
4) to choose not to use the tumble drier 12 times per month
5) to take my son out for a coffee and a chat about his latest writing project once per month
6) to practice navigation skills once per month
7) to take the children on a day-out once per month
8) to complete one painting project per month
9) to sort out one area of my personal admin once per month
10) to finish one book per month
11) to do one thing towards developing my workas a Breastfeeding Counsellor once per month
12) to blog 12 times per month
Monday, 26 March 2012
Water of Life
I am irritation personifed today. I ran 13.1 miles yesterday in 1 hour and 46 minutes exactly, an achievement of which I am very proud. It took me the same time (just 17 seconds quicker) than the last Half I ran but this was an undoubtedly slower course, as judged by comparing the winning times, due to a few narrow bridges and gates, which means I ran harder and better. My shoulders are sore, I have a raging thirst and the slightest difficulty makes me want to cry - all signs of a good race. My children are being patient and understanding, education has consisted of watching the last installment of BBC's "Great Expectations". Time for a hot chocolate and a lie-down!
Thursday, 23 February 2012
T-shirt Thursday
Two mornings in a row I have drunk my morning tea in the garden. Underneath the chill breeze is a warmth, a scent, a freshness and it feels as if spring might just be here. The morning DJ told me that it would be 16 degrees today and was T-shirt Thursday.
My two youngest started a Level 2 horse-riding course this morning, following last autumn's Level 1 and I was back in a place that I haven't been since early November; the first of last year's course was in September. And so, like finding forgotten train tickets in a coat long unworn, I found memories in the pockets of this morning: meeting up with the other mums and sharing something of my summer break-up; hearing that a process had been set in motion which would cause me personal pain; take up hours of my time and cause me and my children to question who we could trust; training for a half-marathon which would represent getting my life back on track after the upheaval of the previous months.
These times of re-visiting, when memories appear unbidden, allow me to reflect on the life-distance travelled in six months. New, softer and subtle emotions surface as more stormy ones blow themselves out. I find that we have passed through what felt overwhelming and survived. I find that, with the warmer air and the first daffodils, I am beginning to plan for a future on which I really believe I can stand.
My two youngest started a Level 2 horse-riding course this morning, following last autumn's Level 1 and I was back in a place that I haven't been since early November; the first of last year's course was in September. And so, like finding forgotten train tickets in a coat long unworn, I found memories in the pockets of this morning: meeting up with the other mums and sharing something of my summer break-up; hearing that a process had been set in motion which would cause me personal pain; take up hours of my time and cause me and my children to question who we could trust; training for a half-marathon which would represent getting my life back on track after the upheaval of the previous months.
These times of re-visiting, when memories appear unbidden, allow me to reflect on the life-distance travelled in six months. New, softer and subtle emotions surface as more stormy ones blow themselves out. I find that we have passed through what felt overwhelming and survived. I find that, with the warmer air and the first daffodils, I am beginning to plan for a future on which I really believe I can stand.
Sunday, 1 January 2012
New Year
Monday, 3 October 2011
New Bike
I've got a new bike! My life has been shaken up this summer and one of the goals that has come out of this is to try to use my car less. I am nervously embracing buses and gaining confidence with my Oyster card and I would like to cycle to more places. There aren't all that many opportunities to use the bike as I mostly travel with three children and I am always pushed for time, but I would like to cost the environment less, manage my time better, keep up an active lifestyle and spend less on petrol.
So, I've got a new bike! It was a bargain: second-hand and I part-exchanged the old one I bought when I used to cycle to work before I had children. It came with all the bits I needed like lights and a little repair kit. (Not that I have any idea how to use that!) Yesterday was its first trip out. I went to the park and went round. This removed all the added difficulties of dealing with traffic, changing direction and having to do anything other than pedal -my companion had to use her brakes quite a bit as I couldn't keep up. My excuse was that I had already been running but in reality I was just a bit scared of going too fast so I just kept going. It's not much, plenty of people whizz on two wheels through central London in rush hour, but it was a baby step towards a big goal and I feel like I achieved something, that I am still growing.
Monday, 16 May 2011
Why is it hard to be easy?
Like I am most other Sunday mornings, I was out running yesterday. Richmond Park had the pleasant hum of cyclists and runners out in number enjoying the sunshine, the open space and the chance to get some play-time in before getting on with whatever else Sunday held.
I am back in training after a break following the Hastings Half-Marathon in March and I am relishing the sense of grounding I have found in getting clear in my head what I like, and don't like, about running and setting myself realistic goals for the year. This is week three of the schedule that worked so well for me earlier this year and it's an easy week - it says, quite clearly, 90 mins (easy) - but I just couldn't do it. I pushed the pace, ran hard up the hills and, having added a there-and-back section to the beginning of the circuit to take up the distance, challenged myself to complete the course I'd set in an hour-and-a-half, despite having slightly over-estimated it. I could have just stopped at the 90 minute mark, but no, I ran hard to try to beat the time and then carried on for the extra five minutes it took to reach the end.
Why? It won't make me fitter: the running plan is well designed and easy weeks are essential to rest the body. No-one else cares how fast or far I run: it is something I do entirely for myself. But there is a habit in always pushing, running too hard to think properly, running away from the stuff that bothers me. If I go slow I don't feel as if I'm achieving anything and that subtly transforms into not being worth anything. I am trying to learn that I am just as much loved and valued if I am lying in the sun dozing, and that when I am rested and relaxed and I am nicer person to be around, truer to myself and maybe that, in itself, is the real achievement.
I am back in training after a break following the Hastings Half-Marathon in March and I am relishing the sense of grounding I have found in getting clear in my head what I like, and don't like, about running and setting myself realistic goals for the year. This is week three of the schedule that worked so well for me earlier this year and it's an easy week - it says, quite clearly, 90 mins (easy) - but I just couldn't do it. I pushed the pace, ran hard up the hills and, having added a there-and-back section to the beginning of the circuit to take up the distance, challenged myself to complete the course I'd set in an hour-and-a-half, despite having slightly over-estimated it. I could have just stopped at the 90 minute mark, but no, I ran hard to try to beat the time and then carried on for the extra five minutes it took to reach the end.
Why? It won't make me fitter: the running plan is well designed and easy weeks are essential to rest the body. No-one else cares how fast or far I run: it is something I do entirely for myself. But there is a habit in always pushing, running too hard to think properly, running away from the stuff that bothers me. If I go slow I don't feel as if I'm achieving anything and that subtly transforms into not being worth anything. I am trying to learn that I am just as much loved and valued if I am lying in the sun dozing, and that when I am rested and relaxed and I am nicer person to be around, truer to myself and maybe that, in itself, is the real achievement.
Thursday, 24 March 2011
Another 13.1?
It's a tough choice. I'd like to set myself a challenge, but not one which will take over my life. I want to do something satisfyingly hard, but not crazy. I've just done a half-marathon in my best time ever and, despite still feeling exhausted, I'm keen to build on my good running form. It was suggested to me, while I sat in the car swigging water less than an hour after I finished on Sunday, that it might be an idea to train for a marathon. Well, it's certainly an idea, but is it a crazy one?
My intention this year was to run the same four races I did last year. I have completed two and entered the third, so my thoughts are turning to the winter. Last year I ran the Hog's Back, which was fun, but only 8.2 miles. A reasonable distance, but something and nothing, not a distance which can easily be compared with any other. The year before I did a 10 miler. A very hilly 10 miler. But it was a long way from home, and there is always a point at which I wonder why I am in the car longer than I am running, when I could run the same distance from my front-door and be home for breakfast. Both of these have the advantage, though, of a previous time to compare this year's with.
I've found a half marathon just over an hour away, mostly canal paths, which looks a good option. But then, there is the Greensand Marathon. Not just a marathon, but a marathon with a vertical mile of ascent and descent. Not just a marathon, but a marathon with a quarter-way cut-off point of 70 minutes, which doesn't sound too bad until you remember the vertical mile. And the fact that it's all off road. I won't be able to move for a week afterwards. At least. I won't educate my children much for a week afterwards - unless setting a role model of setting challenging goals counts as education. It's expensive, but it's close to home, and somehow, when it's an option on the table, everything else sounds just a little bit tame. So, it's an idea. But is it a crazy one?
My intention this year was to run the same four races I did last year. I have completed two and entered the third, so my thoughts are turning to the winter. Last year I ran the Hog's Back, which was fun, but only 8.2 miles. A reasonable distance, but something and nothing, not a distance which can easily be compared with any other. The year before I did a 10 miler. A very hilly 10 miler. But it was a long way from home, and there is always a point at which I wonder why I am in the car longer than I am running, when I could run the same distance from my front-door and be home for breakfast. Both of these have the advantage, though, of a previous time to compare this year's with.
I've found a half marathon just over an hour away, mostly canal paths, which looks a good option. But then, there is the Greensand Marathon. Not just a marathon, but a marathon with a vertical mile of ascent and descent. Not just a marathon, but a marathon with a quarter-way cut-off point of 70 minutes, which doesn't sound too bad until you remember the vertical mile. And the fact that it's all off road. I won't be able to move for a week afterwards. At least. I won't educate my children much for a week afterwards - unless setting a role model of setting challenging goals counts as education. It's expensive, but it's close to home, and somehow, when it's an option on the table, everything else sounds just a little bit tame. So, it's an idea. But is it a crazy one?
Monday, 21 March 2011
Sore
Strangely, my neck hurts. My legs hurt too, but I was expecting that. I am irritable, tired and a little dehydrated; all of that is normal. But my neck? I think it's all the down-hills. I ran Hastings Half Marathon yesterday on a sunny seaside day, with a pleasant breeze and huge crowd support. The first five miles are largely up-hill, with the stretch from around three to just after five one long, steady climb. Consequently, there are some pretty steep down-hills in the second half, before the last three miles from one end of the sea-front to the other. It's a great race and one I've enjoyed for the last three years. I was dead chuffed to have taken almost eight minutes off last year's time, which was three minutes quicker than 2009. My running seems to have come together this year. I have reached a place where I am happy with how much I run, why I run, whether or not I want to race and how hard to push myself. It was one of my 'intentions' this year, to run the same four races that I did last year, and it was one of my priorites this half-term to prepare for Hastings. As an approach, it seems to have worked. I am trying to take it as easy as possible today and I am not requiring much from the children. My son tells me that is a reason he likes me racing. Me? I enjoy the chance to bask in the glow of achievement and to have every excuse to eat more cake and chocolate!
Monday, 7 February 2011
Bookham 10k
I ran the Bookham 10k yesterday: six-and-a-quarter miles of hilly, muddy, glorious Surrey countryside. The woods were autumnal, unless I looked closely underfoot and saw the green leaves poking through the fallen dead ones. My emotions were stirred up and my training has suffered with a run of bugs and I had my usual bout of pre-race, 'Why am I here, what am I doing this for?' wobbles. But I have set myself the 'intention' of re-running all last year's four races and this was the first one. I may not be at the peak of condition, but I can manage a 10k and it is a joy to be out in nature, running in the country and sharing with a couple of hundred other enthusiasts. I reassured myself that I had the afternoon to rest and company today if I needed more recovery time; I encouraged myself with the thought that there is little point in driving so far and paying to enter a race if I am going to hold back and I reminded myself that this is a very 'me' thing to do. Separate from myself as a wife, mother, friend or any other role I fulfill, running is just me and the air I breathe, my goals and my achievement. I "got my head in the game" and ran hard.
I think I did well: I was 9th lady in my age group and 25th lady overall. I completed it in 1 hour and 7 seconds, which compares well with the winning lady's result of 46:11 (did I mention the hills and the mud and the hills?) But I cannot get over the bugging fact that I don't have last year's time. I want to know if I did better. I tell myself that it shouldn't matter, that it doesn't matter, that I can be pleased with this year's achievement, but still I want to know. I want to have been faster.
There will come a time, and maybe it has already come, when I don't run faster than last year and I hope that I still find purpose and fun in the race and in the process of running. Running itself must be the goal, the purpose, the end in itself, otherwise the drive to achieve more will become and unbearable pressure and drain the all the fun.
I think I did well: I was 9th lady in my age group and 25th lady overall. I completed it in 1 hour and 7 seconds, which compares well with the winning lady's result of 46:11 (did I mention the hills and the mud and the hills?) But I cannot get over the bugging fact that I don't have last year's time. I want to know if I did better. I tell myself that it shouldn't matter, that it doesn't matter, that I can be pleased with this year's achievement, but still I want to know. I want to have been faster.
There will come a time, and maybe it has already come, when I don't run faster than last year and I hope that I still find purpose and fun in the race and in the process of running. Running itself must be the goal, the purpose, the end in itself, otherwise the drive to achieve more will become and unbearable pressure and drain the all the fun.
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