Today for the first time in several weeks I went running. I haven’t been lazy, I was injured and advised not to run until my ankle was strong enough. I’ve been very patient and, while I missed running, I was quite content not to run. I think when you know the injury is bad and to run will make it worse it is easy to not run. This is especially true if you are confident that you are a runner. I realised over the last few weeks that I am a runner.
Many years ago I was a heavy smoker, but eventually had the sense to give up when I was 35. For years I considered myself to be an ex-smoker, knowing that just one slip and I’d be addicted again. Now I know that will never happen; I am a non-smoker.
A similar thing has happened with running, for many years I could have quite easily given up, it was only by setting ever more demanding goals that I managed to keep running, although at times I struggled with motivation. Now I realise that I am a runner, I don’t need goals to aim for to keep me running. I am a runner, that is what I do. If I have a day off it is because I want a day off, I’ll run again when I want to. If I cannot fit a run in because of work or family commitments that’s fine, it’s my choice, but I know I’ll run again at the first opportunity. That is what happened today, I saw the physio between 1 and 2pm came home, thought ‘I should have some lunch’, but instead I got my kit on and headed out of the door. Ran slowly for 45 minutes and must admit, even though it was good to be out, I didn’t enjoy the first 10 minutes, it was a real struggle. But then it got easier and I was completely at ease with the world. It was tempting to keep going longer, but I want to keep running this week, next week, next month, next year and until I die so I’m going to be patient and build up slowly. I’m a runner that is what I do.