Chasing my tail
Three months ago I was happy to run the distance to the small harbour in the neighborhood and back – all together a bit more than 10 km. Tonight I wanted to run there again – nice evening long run, no stress, just me and the road.
As V. decided to go swimming, I laced up my shoes and hit the road straight away. For some reason, I started to check my watch almost every km – or what I thought was a km. The thing is, I don’t have one of those Forerunners at my wrist as I don’t need a beep to remind me how slow my pace is. Not just yet. When it comes to running, I am still very much at the beginning of the journey. I don’t want to know the times – or do I?
Before I knew it, I started racing… with myself! Along the road, there were several points I recognised and remembered (windmill, waterway marker, bike path crossing, harbour entrance etc). As I was passing them by, I tried to memorize the lap times to be able to compare them with the lap times on my way back. Then I started thinking what was the time I reached when running that very same track for the first time, in January? I completely lost myself in my calculations. I did not listen to my music and what was worse: I did not listen to myself.
And before I knew it, without remembering anything about my run, I was back at home clocking my fastest 10K. But did it make me any happier?