I didn’t post anything here last week because there was so much other stuff going on. On top of work, looking for work, parenting, volunteering for a “Save Our Libraries” campaign (see previous blog post), trying to work on my next book, food shopping, and attempting to get the house presentable for a party we’re having here in a few weeks, I was also doing some last-minute training for the Birmingham Half Marathon, which I ran last Sunday in a time of two hours and fourteen minutes (sixteen minutes ahead of my target time, which I'm very proud of).
I first took up running in early 2008 when I decided to do the annual fun run in Sutton Coldfield, where I grew up. I can’t remember any exact reason for wanting to do it beyond just wanting to say I’d done it, but I trained religiously twice a week for a few months and completed it in just over an hour (it’s about eight-and-a-half miles). An hour after I crossed the finish line, I went straight to a nine-hour shift at a busy local pub. The joys of being 24 years old! I’ve had bursts of running on and off since then, usually sparked by a bout of anxiety or entering a run so that I have a reason to go out and do it. A lot of people sneer at running—“I’ve never seen a happy-looking jogger” etc.—but I’ve learned so much about myself and mindfulness through the simple act of going out and running that I thought it worth writing about here. The first epiphany I remember having was quite early, whilst training for the initial fun run. I’d covered a fair distance and was maybe a mile or so from home. I forget why, but I glanced back over my shoulder. Doing this made me think about how far I’d run; turning back to look where I was going made me realise how far I had left to go. As a result, I suddenly felt exhausted and had to drop down to a walk, even though I’d been okay just a few seconds before. It dawned on me as I trudged home that, as soon I’d slipped out of the present moment, I’d become overwhelmed. To run most effectively, I had to keep my mind solely focused on where I was, not where I’d been or still had to go. I later mentioned this to a brilliant doctor I was fortunate enough to have who replied, “Well, there you have the essence of mindfulness.” I still think about this now—whenever I’m running and feel myself getting tired by the thought of how far I’ve still got to go, I stare at the ground just in front of me and let my mind settle on that. “Just be where you are now,” I tell myself, and pretty quickly, I’m back in the present moment. This is why I find running a brilliant natural anxiety antidote for me. As well as the endorphins and other physical benefits of the exercise, it helps me to become present in other aspects of my day. I become less likely to project into a potentially terrifying future or ruminating on a mistake-laden past. I had another epiphany about running when I did the half-marathon on Sunday. As I was stood with the thousands upon thousands of other competitors on Broad Street, waiting to get going, I was looking around at everyone. So many people were running for charities; they had t-shirts on for charities dealing with everything from cancer to Alzheimer’s to homelessness to Palestine. Others had t-shirts bearing photographs of lost loved ones. I was running to raise money for a lung charity (I suffered a collapsed lung in 2009 and had been saying ever since that I would raise money for such a cause one day) and for one offering support to those bereaved by suicide. As we all started winding our way through the streets of Birmingham, whether we were running or walking and whether we had all the right gear or were dressed as a carrot, I got a little emotional. I realised that it was because this event was so charged with meaning. It was all kinds of people, from all backgrounds, from all angles of the political spectrum, all doing something to make a difference, however small. To be part of that was beautiful. The medal I got for completing it really doesn’t come close (although the t-shirt will come in handy for the gym). I haven’t entered any other runs yet, so I’m now facing the challenge of staying motivated to keep going out and keep the fitness levels up. I was pretty sore after the run, and the endorphins didn’t properly kick in ‘til the next day, but when they did, they were worth the wait. That’s my weekly reflection. At some point, I will start putting clever sign offs and quirky headlines, but right now, it’s lunchtime.
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AuthorI'm a writer and editor from Birmingham. Nothing fancy about that! Archives
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