My favorite thing about doing a long run is the feeling of freedom I have.
I remember speaking with my brother about why I love running far, how when I push the boundaries it feels incredible that I can just keep going to wherever I want to, that I have total control to decide how far to push myself and what areas I want to explore. It was a funny explanation - to say that I love endurance running because it makes me feel free - but now it seems quite timely.
A few Saturdays ago I was going to run my first ultra marathon.
A 33-mile course looping across the coastal cliffs of Dorset. I had never run that far before and with 2,000 meters of ascent I was feeling a bit nervous about how long it might take me and whether that 6.30pm dinner reservation I had booked was wishful thinking. Mainly though, I felt excited.
I had been training hard, spending most of my winter nights running on treadmills at steep inclines ranging anywhere from 2% to 12% and occasionally braving hail storms and pouring rain when I could not bear to stare at a digital screen for another hour.
I was running slightly over 40 miles a week, with two rest days. This included about an hour run on a Saturday followed by a long run on a Sunday, with these back-to-backs building up to a cumulative five hour weekend run.
One evening, after a three-hour long run on the Sunday, and a rest day on the Monday, I went straight from my desk at work to the treadmill downstairs in the office. I did not stretch and my warm-up pretty much started on a 2% incline. There was a sharp twinge in my leg all the way up my abductor through to my hip, and I could tell this wasn’t a good type of pain.
I added in another rest day, and then attempted a lunchtime run along my usual route. I ended up, for the first time in my life, having to call an Uber on my run. The pain in my leg was unbearable and I was worried that my ultra marathon dreams were coming to an end. I was supposed to peak at a four hour run in two weeks’ time, and here I was, barely able to walk.
I got my leg checked out and was told to take two weeks off. I had strained my abductor, possibly from over-training but more likely from my quick transition from eight hours at a desk to running at an incline. Lesson learned.
At the end of those two weeks I was relieved to discover that not only was I able to run, but it seemed that I hadn’t lost my endurance. I reached the tapering stage, feeling ready, despite my two-week break, and mentally rested for the challenge. That Sunday I packed my bag with my compass, waterproofs, snacks, gels, water bottles, a print out of the course, my trail shoes, favorite socks and other standard racing gear. I was ready to go.
Then, the Monday before my race, Boris Johnson announced that the UK was going into social distancing mode.
By the Wednesday I had decided even if my race was going ahead, I would not be running it. I unpacked my bag that evening.
By Friday, it was announced that all bars and cafes should shut. That everyone should avoid non-essential travel.
My race was officially cancelled.
I, like many of you around the world, felt disappointed that my race had been cancelled. I understood the decision-making and I had already made a personal decision not to run it, but sometimes it’s hard to adjust your feelings to your thinking.
A few days later, my household went into self-isolation for 14 days.
It’s a funny feeling to get back into running again. The last time I went running, the world was normal. I then spent two weeks indoors, where walking 800 steps might be considered an achievement. If I’m completely honest I feel a bit nervous about running outside. There aren’t any real guidelines as to how long you can go for a run for in the UK, only that you can exercise once a day outside – locally – and should avoid being within 2 meters of someone else. That guidance, particularly in a city, would suggest that I should probably limit my runs to an hour or less.
I feel like I’ve lost some of my motivation to go for runs now too and it seems down to routine. I'm not used to putting on my gear and jumping into action. I’m used to sitting down all day and it’s hard to get back into it. I also feel so limited in not knowing what I can do that I feel better not doing anything at all.
That being said, I can remember all of the reasons why I love to run, and I simply am going to edge my way back into it, starting off small and increasing my way back up to where I used to be. I remember what it felt like to be a newbie runner, and I’m going to have to be kind to myself as I slowly increase my mileage. I'm already starting to think of new mini goals and what my routine will look like when it starts to take form.
But for now, I remain hopeful for the day when I will run 33 miles and will never have felt so free.
