Surrendering expectation and just running (in a storm)
Beloved Brockway cheerfully informed Wales Today viewers that a "Spring storm was on its way."
And sure enough, I sat in the office looking out of a rain-streaked window as trees bent in persistent gales, and hail - which I'm sure isn't a sign of Spring - came down sideways.
As my colleagues and I did that wonderfully British thing of commenting on the weather every half hour or so, at no point did I question my planned run.
I have committed myself to doing a 10K race this year and I have a lot to do. My fitness levels have dropped and I need to build up my strength - and my discipline. I've done my moping and a little rain can't get in the way.
Besides, running in the rain can feel hugely liberating.
So I crawled along the M4 on my way home, peering through swathes of rain and road-spray. I got through the front door, walked passed the inviting sofa and I changed into my running gear.
I had left my Berghaus jacket at my boyfriend's flat, so there was nothing else for it: I was going to get well and truly drenched. Just embrace it.
And I did. I took the river path, which was high enough to be safe from floods, but was nevertheless both terrifying and fascinating. It had swollen by several feet and churned and raged. A fallen chunk of a tree rushed past and out of sight.
I took it easy. I was tired of monitoring pace and technique, and just... ran.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in expectation and think too much - namely about progress and how a run is turning out - when ultimately the best runs are the ones where you stop analysing and simply put one foot in front of the other. Again and again and again. No thinking required.
Surrendering can be hard and, sometimes, the more you try the more elusive it becomes. Other times, like during a refreshing, exciting run in a storm, it just comes to you.
And it's bliss.
--
And sure enough, I sat in the office looking out of a rain-streaked window as trees bent in persistent gales, and hail - which I'm sure isn't a sign of Spring - came down sideways.
 |
| No one can stay mad at Derek Brockway |
As my colleagues and I did that wonderfully British thing of commenting on the weather every half hour or so, at no point did I question my planned run.
I have committed myself to doing a 10K race this year and I have a lot to do. My fitness levels have dropped and I need to build up my strength - and my discipline. I've done my moping and a little rain can't get in the way.
Besides, running in the rain can feel hugely liberating.
So I crawled along the M4 on my way home, peering through swathes of rain and road-spray. I got through the front door, walked passed the inviting sofa and I changed into my running gear.
I had left my Berghaus jacket at my boyfriend's flat, so there was nothing else for it: I was going to get well and truly drenched. Just embrace it.
And I did. I took the river path, which was high enough to be safe from floods, but was nevertheless both terrifying and fascinating. It had swollen by several feet and churned and raged. A fallen chunk of a tree rushed past and out of sight.
I took it easy. I was tired of monitoring pace and technique, and just... ran.
It's so easy to get wrapped up in expectation and think too much - namely about progress and how a run is turning out - when ultimately the best runs are the ones where you stop analysing and simply put one foot in front of the other. Again and again and again. No thinking required.
Surrendering can be hard and, sometimes, the more you try the more elusive it becomes. Other times, like during a refreshing, exciting run in a storm, it just comes to you.
And it's bliss.
--
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