Running, to me.

I was on a run the other day and I couldn't help but think:

"How can something as monotonous and steady as running have so many ups and downs?"

Getting lost in a sport

The "simple" sport of running, putting one foot in front of the other, can take you on this journey that other sports just can't.

I play in a netball team; we train on Mondays and play matches on Saturdays. And I love it. The sport means the world to me. I push myself to the max when I'm out on court. I go after every ball, driving into space to attack or pull defenders away. I am also thinking, almost involuntarily, about the strategy of the game. I am working with my teammates to a common goal - winning.

I love getting lost in a game. When I play, my focus is on the game alone, not what I'm having for dinner tonight, nor what my colleagues really think of me. In the end, it is just me and the sport. It's great.

But running is a whole other story. Of course, like any sport, there is strategy and focus needed to excel. But often, it is just me and the run - and then, out of nowhere, it isn't me and the run anymore, it's me and my mind.

Running is with my legs is barely half the story.

As many runners will know, the physical element of a run is often only half the struggle. The real struggle comes from those mental hurdles you have to jump over on the way. Digging deep to keep those legs moving when all you want to do is stop.

It is finding the mental energy to block out all your outside worries. Or conversely, it could be the perfect time to think them through and just run it all out.

Not all runs provide clarity.

This was a tough lesson to learn. I would always be chasing those runs that had the good feeling or runner's high. But also I was craving those runs that help you organise the thoughts in your mind. And I would find myself getting frustrated when I couldn't see my thoughts, the world, or life itself for what they were. I was letting it eat me alive. And then I was letting my legs get heavy under the pressure of it all. Not good.

It took a while for me to realise (and to be honest I am still learning this now), but a good run can't be something you chase. It isn't something to reach. It is something you find inside yourself.

Not every run is about pushing yourself to the max. For me it is about being grateful for my body and what it is capable of.

Look for the (double) rainbow!

There is a particular run I went on that was a "disaster". I was 1k in and it started chucking down with rain. I was drenched.

But I carried on running, putting on foot in front of the other. And then the rain cleared and out came a rainbow - a double one at that!

Not all runs are your best run, but there is always something to learn. I can recall some pretty terrible runs. But I know for certain that I have learnt a valuable lesson from each and every one.

It takes effort to look for the lesson in the"failure". But the more you practice it, the more you'll see the good in things.

I'll leave you with a final, rather cliche, line from me:

Enjoy the ride.

As always, thanks for reading.

Happy running & see you next time!

April xxxxx