This is a "thinking out loud" post.
Today is long run day.
My knee has been feeling "niggly", and it was cold. And windy. And my bed was so warm. And... I was making excuses. So I got up, made some coffee, and had some yoghurt while I watched My Kitchen Rules. It looked pretty grey outside. Maybe I will just go to the gym and do 30 minutes on the treadmill. Better than nothing, right?
No. Excuses won't help me finish a marathon. Unless it's a movie marathon.
No, "embrace the suck", "learn to dance in the rain" etc. I mean really, how bad could it be. I laid out all my kit and switched on a heater so I wouldn't freeze when I changed (genius!)
3/4 running tight things. A thermal base layer top. Nice new socks. My shoes. Two buffs (one for my neck, the other for my head/ears). Gloves. And my rain coat.
I decided to do an easy, flat run, and just see how far I could manage. If my knee gave issues, I would turn around. If it was too cold, or wet, or windy, I would turn around.
But I had to at least get out there and try. Because trying and turning around is far better than not trying at all. And besides, I told myself I would do long runs on the road, not in the gym.
So off I set. And it was awesome. Not too cold, only a little windy here and there. And not a drop of rain. In fact, my raincoat was soaked on the inside because I got so hot, but the outside was dry.
My route was quite flat, and I took in the sight of the sun hitting Strand beach, the smell of wet grass, the beauty that is a city that has been graced with several days of rain.
I explored new roads, evening including a hill climb... which took me to a dead end. Well, it took me to a park, with a river crossing, which I gingerly did.
I decided to not look at my watch for as long as possible- the aim of today was to just see what I could manage with my knee.
But, 6km in, I checked my watch. I was feeling great so I added on more blocks here and there.
I passed some ladies out for a walk/jog, which felt good. Competitive? Who, me?
And then I passed a guy jogging in the opposite direction. He looked so fluid, so natural. And here I am, barely able to walk gracefully.
Some runners are like Valentino Rossi on a superbike, taking a wide sweeping corner- controlled, precise, focused, completely at one with the "machine".
And me? I'm like the dude who has a speed wobble and then gets flung off the bike. I.e. I tend to trip myself up.
Side note: same when I went bouldering. Here I am hauling myself up a 3m vertical wall, huffing and puffing, and this lady just shimmies right on up as if it were a walk in the park. And I'm like an epileptic spider that eventually loses strength and falls to the mat in a ball.
Anyway, so my easy, flat, "lets see how far I can go, 5km would be great, 10km would be awesome" turned into 15.8km. 30m more than last week

I made the turn home a little early and had to do several laps around the neighbourhood to get an extra 3km in.
While I want to increase my distance 10% each week, I felt happy that I had done just a tiny bit extra. No point in pushing to the point of failure (or serious injury).
I have a session with the physio on Friday to sort out my knee and hopefully also get exercises for my hamstrings.
Then, my Mom and I head to Franschhoek for coffee and cake at Terbodore. Coffee was okay, carrot cake was pretty decent.
All in all, a day well spent.
And I'm so glad I got off my butt and ran! As I went my pep talks involved "embrace the suck", "train hard, fight easy", "work hard, run harder". And at one point I almost stopped: all of a sudden a thought popped in my head "Why are you running?"
Like seriously, why? It was so random.
But, one thing I remind myself is "It's not what I'm running from, it's where I'm running to."
I don't want to imagine where I would be if I hadn't discovered this fantastic form of (free) therapy.
It was really nice to change up the route, and I shaved off 6 minutes. I could feel my energy starting to wane, so I now know my Jungle Oats and banana breakfast is definitely the better way to go for longer runs.