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The Secret?

17 March 2011

After work today I came home feeling knackered, hung the washing out, stood in my bedroom for about ten minutes vacillating, then finally put my new trainers on and went out for a run.

It was a dull, boring run-of-the-mill-type-run. Not fast. Not long. Nothing exciting happened, well nothing I haven’t seen or experienced in one of the 200 other times I’ve run that exact route. I barely remember doing it. Yet when I unlocked the door and came in the flat for the second time tonight, everything was different. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t worrying about all the things I had to do or feeling down on myself.

If I achieve nothing else with this day, or this week, tonight I went for a run when I really didn’t want to and that makes me happy. Maybe these runs are the ones that count? The ones in between the races and the fancy training sessions.

Following this Nike-Advertisement-style high, I have rewarded myself with a night of crap TV. Not feeling quite so good about my thighs after The Model Agency, but at least I don’t have to work there.

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