Running again

I did a 10k today in 47 mins, 15 seconds. I had been hoping to get under 50 minutes so was pleased and pretty surprised. Granted, it was a fast, flat course.

I was largely running on my own in a race of a few hundred people, across reclaimed brownfield land, the ragged edge of Kent. Marshland with man-made lakes, still not fully colonised, and new-build homes and scudding autumn winds and the Dartford crossing arching across the sky. Strangely sterile and raw. Almost estaurine but not salted, rich with urban birds, bullrushes and access roads...

I have been finding it much easier to try harder when running in the last month or two. As if I can bear the physical discomfort better, or there is something driving me on. This is good. It feeds me and fires me.

But why do we do this, constantly trying to better ourselves, go further and faster and higher. I wonder if it is a transference of inner energy to do with particular circumstances. Or an honest encounter with our physical barriers - boundaries that can be pushed back with application and will. Is it something to do with tamping down mortality? Ironic, though, as we can feel most alive, or in-the-body, when working near our physical limits.


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