This morning I completed my first run in nearly a week. Adjusting to new medication has taken it’s toll on my appetite and energy. It’s only been a week but that is a long time for a hooked runner.
I woke up this morning terrified that I had lost my fitness and am back to the drawing board. On reflection that is sort of ridiculous given that last week I ran to Oxford, the week prior ran my first marathon and week before that my first 100 mile week. The mind is sort of ridiculous but I really believe you are only as good as your last run so had much to prove to myself…
And what better platform for doing so than Parkrun? My Saturday routine consists of running to my nearest race (Avery Hill Park, Greenwich), do the race then run back aiming to be home by 10am at the end of an 10.5 mile circuit.
The 4 mile run to Avery Hill today felt the longest it has ever felt. I was thinking how on earth have I been doing this every week and barely feeling a thing? Am I still that person? All these doubts going on under the thumping Diplo and Skrillex beats blasting out of my wireless earphones I rediscovered yesterday when tidying my room.
I am pleased to report that I made it to the park in one piece. Usually I run races without music but today I wanted to block out everything so I spent 10 minutes warming up and developing a quick playlist on Tidal on my crappy temp phone (Perfect Illusion-Lady Gaga, Timebomb-Kylie, Bitch I’m Madonna-Madge, Express Yourself-Diplo, Work Bitch-Britney, Get Ur Freak On-Missy Elliot).
I found myself leading the first lap and began visioning myself completing the greatest comeback since Roger Federer a few weeks back (what a hero) but found myself comfortably overtaken soon enough by some of the super speedies. By lap two I fell back into a race for fifth place which was actually the first time in a parkrun where I’ve taken over someone who first overtook me (usually I sort of just give in politely). We had a sick slog until he found another gear and sped off leaving me to close out sixth place which I duly did.
The run home was the best I have ever felt on the Saturday routine, extra bounce in my step after doing myself proud after a satisfactory comeback (yes, I know it’s only been a week…).
I got home and checked the results and discovered I set a personal best (PB) which I’m super thrilled with at the end of the shittiest week ever (maybe not ever).
It goes to show that the mind and the body can really view things differently but that no matter how you feel, carry on and just see what happens. You never know, your PB may just be around the corner.