I ran my heedless ways

‘Running’ is as much set in the mind, as much to do with the box of wires upstairs, as…

To the two cog-pins down below and the bellows between, in my experience it has much more to do with, ‘the night above the dingle starry’.

In releasing down the fades, thus allowing the fade-in’s to deliver, how one deals with the out as well as inner, defines.

When younger ‘and easy under the apple boughs’, i stopped taking baths upon listening to a Kenyan athlete espousing how this form of washing softened muscle tone.

Oh dear, not good, VERY GOOD.

‘All the sun long it was running’, I even shaved my legs prior to the English Schools Cross Country Championships in Redditch, similarly after listening to a swimmers revelations in the hopeless hope of trimming a grain of sand out of the egg-timer, of fallen times.

As it happened, the shaving of hair follicles proved to be a wise if undoubtedly uninformed move given the outcome.

You see, a laddy from Cornwall, landed on my left calf with his blacksmith forged spikes as we traversed a ditch, and in doing so, ripped asunder a good 12 inches of my freshly manicured fibres.

This prevented further discomforts at the medical intervention stage but how ironic then, how my pain did turn to embarrassment, the cognitive muscle type, as it became clear under the closest of scrutiny, he had recently shaved those pins.

I continued the race despite the open wound, nothing but nothing was going to stop me.

This had little to do with matters grey, more to do with the core of resolve within reach however blind and stupid it might now seem, the run takes over, meaning, the runner takes over.

Peter Elliott went on to win that year for ‘our’ South Yorkshire team, a greater victory of persistence and one which was to deliver immensely for this gifted, crafted athlete, in future times.

I don’t remember noticing him having legs shaved however…


I rarely take rest days now. In those earlier times i would always take the eve to any race off. Ron Hill made pay to that.

I soon discovered i was having my best races following a previous day of finely focused activity.

Now, i simply don’t feel, ‘in shape’ after a day/s off. The engine as idle, just is.

So, odd isn’t it for an activity of relatively un-complexed requirements, to be, to simply run, enables its ability to harbor a mire of disquiets from the dysfunctional aspect of mind overs.

Just run.

Locked away we realise, it isn’t so much the wires and connectors of switch boxes from the upper reaches, but the sequencing of patterns and rhythms, streams, lakes, estuaries, valleys, moors and fern hill’s which evolve the fabric of our beings.

The body tick-tock, the body magnifique, the body being, just being, and breathing the run.

To listen, and then run, as the swell of tides, rise, they fall.


~ by lloydsloops on July 30, 2015.

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