Recovery

Today is the last. The last in the sense; princess hamstrings got the better of my resolve this week.

Following 14, 8 and then 5 mile canal runs, a decision was made, let go and rest for a few days.

It feels like an excuse; it always does but the motivation was simple, the 23rd of the month upcoming.

Most years I have expressed at some point, during the passing of promise, ‘this year’.

This year means, this year by the 23rd of July I will. It often starts with the London marathon in April, eking its harbour and manifests itself in the statement of intent, ‘I will be’.

Last year (2014) after many failing promises, the whatever which makes something doable, did, it commenced and indeed sustained.

Initially, after several breakdowns, (physically here) breaking down my resolve, (psychologically here) over the first four or so months, I broke back. Those first tentative steps relaying something more akin to a stride. The barrel weight slowly emptying. One stone became two, then three and now three and a half, just…

Just. One more to go, one more, two months.

A final two months of count and lock down. Space given therefore, for a few days grace of recovery and, indulgence. The ‘discipline’ of accrual eased to one side, as gathered, day by day, week by week, month on month, allowed in, this ‘recovery’ week.

Given the psychological breathing space, the physical has been less so. Rather than ease, princess hamstrings has indeed ensued her uncomfortableness and noticeably tightened her grip like vice of discomfort.

Tomorrow it is back to the shop floor. A way has to be found to run through this.

The physical is unremittingly linked to the psychological and of course, about turn.

The running abstinence of running dialogues no longer afforded. It feels like a very long time now to have taken a few days rest. This in itself is, a pleasing reaction. It means, the winter embedded the runner back into the runs.

Runs there will be, running on.

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~ by lloydsloops on May 24, 2015.

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