Running the Country
By inclination and by location I am an urban runner.* All the same, most of my runs over the past seven or eight years have taken place in one of London’s largest parks rather than on Tarmac. Sadly at the moment due to “Olympic regeneration”, it’s mostly like a ravaged war zone but you can dodge past the wire fencing and complete an almost-lap of the park which is three miles, all told. Not that I’m there yet but I will be, soon.
Today I finished up Week 2 of the Couch 2 5k programme out in the leafy environs of Buckinghamshire while visiting the in-laws. I saw butterflies, skylarks, and a bold hare who bounced across my path, eyed me for an instant and then bounded through the hedgerow into the fields. It was like meeting the Easter Bunny in person.
The other remarkable creature I encountered was nonlondinium-perambulatus. Bouncy, nippy and alert, they throw up a hand in greeting, smile widely and mouth “good morning” as you cross paths along leafy country lanes – or in one case, consciously turning their head to do so as they speed past at a healthy downwards clip. Oh my god, people who say hello!
That doesn’t happen much in London, at least not without building some bridges first. Regardless of ability, whether panting newbies who need like they need a hand – or oxygen – or aerodynamic performance clothing-clad athletes, you don’t get much chat out of townie runners. I remember years ago, obstinately acknowledging everyone I met on early runs around the park – I must have scared the bejaysus out of them all. At best you got a startled look – some people seemed downright offended. I suppose our park does have some history that might contribute to that, or maybe everyone’s just in their own little world. The local running club, while proclaiming to be inclusive and welcoming to all levels, in practice seemed rather more interested in someone who took off like Jo Pavey so I didn’t keep up with that for long.
With the advent of plethoras of podcasts and other motivational tools (Nike+ app to log your runs, Runkeeper and iPod playlists for motivation, a HRM to ensure you’re in your target zone) you’d think that conversation would be overrated anyway. But for all the tools in the arsenal, there are few that can mandate compliance – as in sticking to a plan or a training schedule. Yes, you’ve got the iPod all charged and ready to go. But does that really get you up and out the door?
When I was at my most fit (about eleven years ago) I had two groups of people at my local gym with whom I trained: gym sessions in the morning and running club in the evenings. Even without the conversation to motivate us, we showed up – because everyone else showed up. There were always a core few and a periphery or up to a dozen who were there and ready to go, even on very cold or very hot nights, during celebrations and holidays or when you’d sooner, honestly, be at home, lying in bed, or down the pub. We stuck with it because you didn’t want to let each other down. On those days when you felt like crap you still hauled yourself along because you knew someone would lift you through it – or slink off home if nobody else was around to play with. It was a diverse group of women in the mornings: ages 18-60 something and sizes 8-28. Really the only thing we had in common was that we all kept turning up – but we did.
One of them told me that her husband went out running with a “club” from the gym in the evenings a few times a week and persistently encouraged me to go. Only in hindsight did I realise that she suspected that he was having an affair with one of the women – he wasn’t – but he was the elder statesman of the group who appointed himself guardia and used to sacrifice his training time to run at the back with whoever was slowest on winter nights, for their safety, while others chased times. With that group I ran early mornings around Potter’s Bar when only foxes were out for company, piled into cars on rainy Sundays to take on my first road races, and ultimately trained for the London Marathon. Only two of us won ballot places but everyone else took up charity offers, and we raised funds for our coach’s total – a fairly hefty £2000 between the lot of us.
On my second night with the club, our trainer Richard asked me why I wanted to take up running. “Because I want to run the marathon,” came of my gob before I’d gone three feet further. It was the instinctive articulation of something I hadn’t really known – but made total sense to me, after cheering on friends in the marathon a couple of months before that. Without that group I never would have made it around. So while all the gadgets in the world will help you log and statistic-ify your training, it won’t get you out there in the first place. I miss many things about running – running without pain, the sub-10 minute mile, the ability to keep going for more than two miles – and I miss the people. However for the time being I’m going to stick with the iPod etc – and keep dragging the boyfriend out too. By the end of the Couch 2 5K programme though, I may well be more brave…
*yes I’m still doing run/walk intervals but I’m not going to call myself a ralker, ok?
