The loneliness of a long distance hasher

Stream of consciousness

Days to FLM: 98

Last run: sunday 14th, 10 miles

Alert status: Coooool blue.

Now, that was more like it. A beautiful pale blue morning, temperature just right, and ten flat dry miles done just under the pain radar. Nicest run I've had this year, in fact.

So I got to thinking. Which in itself is remarkable, as anyone who has seen me running or tried to hold a conversation with me while running could testify. Generally, my state of mind while running could most accurately be described as 'near catatonic' - the simple question of what to have for a post run breakfast can take up to 1.5 miles and needs to be considered near the end of a run, or I will forget by the time I get home. Mostly my runs consist of several hours of poor mental arithmetic. Let's open a window into the world of synaptic meltdown:

'Hmmm, there's that funny shaped bush which marks the 2 mile point and it's....oooohhh, he really shouldn't be let out in a scull...anyway, it's now 9 minutes 15 secs since the last mile marker or is that 10 minutes 15? Yes, 10 minutes....ooofff, he's quick, why is that really quick runners always blast past you with millimeters to spare? Anyway, 10 minutes 15 but I should take off 30 secs for the shoe lace incident and that means I should get to the next mile marker at 31 minutes - is that the where the drain meets the river or where that funny boat was moored yesterday? If I run the whole thing in 10 minute miles that will be.....what did I want for breakfast again?'

I have tried varying the topic over the years: I spent a considerable amount of time while training for the Paris Marathon attempting to hold conversations with myself in french, but since these conversations largely consisted of me explaining to myself, in french, that my french was very poor, and since carrying a dictionary proved impractical, the wheels soon came off that drive for self improvement.

However, this morning my brain was remarkably co-operative, so I fell to pondering the vexed question of running for charidee. Recently, this is something I have avoided, largely because there is something that irritates me about the predictability of the question ' who are you running for?', following from a conversation about marathon entries. Selfish as it is, I'm running for me, actually - fund raising is not a compulsory part of any training schedule. Pestering friends for sponsorship is also a miserable activity for a reluctant saleswoman, and I'm wary of doing it too often.

Still, since I was in a positive frame of mind I gave myself a stern talking to and came to the conclusion that my squeamishness about pestering people is not very significant compared with the chance for someone to innoculate their baby, build a school or even die in dignity and comfort. A little bit of leg work and occasional embarassment is a small price to pay.

Plus, I get an opportunity to dress up as Velma Flintstone and run 26.2 miles. Now that's irresistible.

posted by Hermione @ 12:41 PM