This is the way

I'd planned to write a post before the end of the old year, particularly as 2020 was a quiet one for me on the blog front. Certainly it wasn't quiet on any other front! But better late than never and why not start the new year with a desire to try and blog a bit more? 

No resolutions. They are too easily broken, too easy to use to make yourself feel bad or a failure. If 2020 taught us anything we should start the new year with a desire to be a little bit kinder to ourselves and others. 

But this is meant to be a running blog - so what of my running? Well just a few short weeks ago at the start of November I was flying. Faster, fitter, feeling great. My fastest time for a 5k in 3 years thanks to my Racer Pacer friends - where we support each other to keep going, getting out for runs when we could as a group of 6 and then in pairs. Mostly jeffing with a 2/1 cycle of running and walking and it paid off. 

But then the second lockdown, the rise in cases meant a rise in workload and I slipped off the track. Still going out though so nothing terrible. But Christmas excess and the ever increasing rise in festive drinking, only matched by the ever increasing size of my belly, was never going to end well. (Oh I did try one of those 28 days without alcohol things, I quit on day 21 - it wasn't for me....as a friend said though 2/3rds is better than nothing!)

I've wanted to try and support James with an incredible distance challenge for ending the year so despite not really feeling it I thought I'd end the year with a run. Notch up another (not)parkrun for Maidstone...(that's probably a whole blog in itself) - so out for a 5k jaunt around the streets where I lived before beginning the New Year festivities. It started off well, but not even 1km in the shin splints started. A sure sign for me of excess and overweight. I struggled on. But before even 2k was texting home to say I  would probably cut it short. Starting to feel very sorry for myself, already the demon voices in my head working out how slow this would be, how out of shape, how unfit, how, how, how....STOP! 

Enough. As the wonderful Christmas present given to me says 'Just trying to be better not the best'. I was out there. I was trying. It wasn't great but it was something. I am something. Don't end 2020 beating myself up, feeling bad, going home grumpy and miserable. That was so 2019. This was my year of recovery. Of realising I could survive anything. Of understanding my mental strength and what mattered and what doesn't matter. Finish the 5k and take the win. 

So I did. I have. This year I've got races planned and I don't expect them to be cancelled. Two ultras in the summer. Something to shoot for. But I do wonder if perhaps in my heart I'm just happy where I am? I want to make sure I can complete them. But I also want to stop always striving for something that just feels out of reach, instead of perhaps just enjoying the journey? Not sure, too early in the year to tell yet. But you will be the first to know - I promise!