After the Winter 100 recovery period with the added problem of a recovering twisted ankle, the post-ultra throat infection laying me low and then an unexpected bout of depression over Christmas I slowly came to the realisation that running and my weekly adventures no longer drew me to their call. Pre-run I would turn over in bed knowing that if I did get up I would have a blast, my recent run with Liz proved this with discovery on paths anew but still lay there paralysed by doubt.
Deep down I was unhappy, take Saturday just gone, my running kit containing maps, food and associated equipment lay ready for my 30 mile run across the Surrey Hills but remained there at 9.00am on Sunday when I finally raised my head from the pillow previously pinned down tight by the Black Dog. As I strolled around the house, I put my energy to small repairs, gardening and quality time with the Delightful Mrs S actually content that I had not in fact run.
Monday came and I had ideas of writing my blog mentioning boot straps and how I should pull myself up by them...it never got written.
Today the notion drew up from the depths of my musing:
Why not just run for fun?
...and I did, tonight I donned my trusty Monkey Feet after the obligatory telling off by Mrs S for dropping mud on the carpet, and joined a slow group at the club for a gentle run, chatted, laughed, ran backwards and forwards checking on the tail enders and basically had a good laugh. I returned smiling, I think I am beginning to fall back in love with running again.