Day 278 - and today I mostly ran like a slug. Painted with treacle. Glued to the floor.
Can't work out if there's a pattern to the runs where I'm just not feeling it. It doesn't happen that often. Possibly one or two runs a month. And it's not even when I'm a hormonal mess. It's just that the lethargy fairy strikes. And I run like a slug.
Sometimes when it happens, I stop and give myself a good talking to. Other times I try to do the 'isn't everything lovely and isn't the world beautiful' thing of spotting nice stuff around me. Only today everything smelled of manure and cow pats. And I nearly ran into a couple of cow pats while I was out. And there were so many flies that I'm sure that I'm not longer vegan having eaten half the fly population living near the River Trent. Plus, it was going dark by the time I went for my run which meant that the trail I was running along got a bit 'can't see much' and I came over all paranoid about running into dog poop. Which wasn't entirely fun.
So instead, I just swore at myself a bit while I was running along. I tried to channel a bit of 'what would my dad have said' motivation. But all I could think was that he wouldn't even believe I was able to run at all (I only took up running three years after he died), so probably wouldn't look up from his suduko to notice! And therefore wouldn't have any sage words of encouragement or wisdom to offer. Plus, he wasn't ever sporty, so I couldn't even pretend there was something he'd ever said about sport. Geeky science stuff and politics. He'd have had an opinion. But running. Nada. Which made that a stupid thing to try and think in the first place...
... therefore tonight's run was fuelled only by swearing and bloody mindedness.
I don't regret going for a run though. And I DEFINITELY earned my cuppa!
|Avg Pace:||8:09 min/mi|
|Elevation Gain:||20 ft|