![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
azziriaRan 14 km yesterday morning, my longest run so far (that's 8.75 miles for the metrically-challenged among you...).
I love running with the GPS, because it means that I can go where the fancy takes me, within reason, and still know I've made my mileage. Yesterday I ran into Cambridge, then out along the River Cam towards the village next to ours, and home via a back road that cuts across country. Running by the river was perfect - the towpath is overhung by willows and other trees, and the only signs of life other than me were ducks, a pair of swans, the occasional jumping fish, and a solitary heron. Misjudged the distance slightly, and ended up walking about a mile home - that particular run will be perfect once I get up to 10 miles - but it didn't matter because it was a lovely morning. The mock orange is flowering now, so every now and then I got a lungful of delicious perfume as I went past someone's garden.
Several friends have suggested that I ought to join the running group in the village. I have mixed feelings about this. It would be good to meet some new people, maybe make some new friends (I'm going up to the Great North with the group, so it would be nice to know more of them beforehand). In the winter when it's dark it would be especially good to have company for my longer runs.
But... the thing is, for me running has always been essentially a solitary activity. I cherish my early runs, going where I want, at my pace, with no need to make conversation. My mind gets the chance to run free too - sort of a moving meditation, almost, sometimes. I run through a lot of stuff - anger, worry, joy, elation, the whole spectrum, depending on my circumstances and mood. I suppose it gives me the personal space it's hard to get at home with a house full of kids. I don't think I want to give that up. So I'm still thinking about this one.
I love running with the GPS, because it means that I can go where the fancy takes me, within reason, and still know I've made my mileage. Yesterday I ran into Cambridge, then out along the River Cam towards the village next to ours, and home via a back road that cuts across country. Running by the river was perfect - the towpath is overhung by willows and other trees, and the only signs of life other than me were ducks, a pair of swans, the occasional jumping fish, and a solitary heron. Misjudged the distance slightly, and ended up walking about a mile home - that particular run will be perfect once I get up to 10 miles - but it didn't matter because it was a lovely morning. The mock orange is flowering now, so every now and then I got a lungful of delicious perfume as I went past someone's garden.
Several friends have suggested that I ought to join the running group in the village. I have mixed feelings about this. It would be good to meet some new people, maybe make some new friends (I'm going up to the Great North with the group, so it would be nice to know more of them beforehand). In the winter when it's dark it would be especially good to have company for my longer runs.
But... the thing is, for me running has always been essentially a solitary activity. I cherish my early runs, going where I want, at my pace, with no need to make conversation. My mind gets the chance to run free too - sort of a moving meditation, almost, sometimes. I run through a lot of stuff - anger, worry, joy, elation, the whole spectrum, depending on my circumstances and mood. I suppose it gives me the personal space it's hard to get at home with a house full of kids. I don't think I want to give that up. So I'm still thinking about this one.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-05-31 02:49 am (UTC)Now I'm very overweight and unfit, but am going to gym and hopefully it won't be long before I can start running. Am too fat at the moment to run!
no subject
Date: 2004-06-01 09:52 am (UTC)I've never been a good runner, but I do enjoy my bicycle. I've been finding reasons not to ride. You've reminded me of what's I've missed. The rolling meditation. I'm going for a ride to today. I've gotten out of the habit of riding. Today is a good day to turn that around.