Day 5 – Failure

Dear G, I was such a flop today. Do you remember the running group I told you about last spring? Practicing running technique Thursdays and long distance Sundays? I only went a couple of times, perhaps five, but I enjoyed it so much! Even though I was about the weakest runner in the group.

As you know it my chiropractor and later doctor said I wasn’t allowed to run from – when was it? May? And it was only in December the consultant in London said I could run again, starting from January, when I had strengthen my back for a couple of weeks. And you know Swedish winter; snow & ice, sick children and mothers…

All this time I’ve been dreaming about joining the running group again.

Since January that has been my goal. But lately I’ve been thinking that as I’m recovering they’ll get faster and faster, won't they? So I figured I just had to jump on the train, starting today with the planned TEMPO RUNNING. Just had to do something also postponed since January: arrange a little fika with my lovely and loved cousin A and her two children, turning 5 and 3. Made us waffles and served with raspberries, black berries and red currants and whipped cream. Of course, I had some. Quite a few, to be honest. And as I was already late from work and we had such a good time, I all of a sudden had to JUMP in my running gear and RUN to the running club.

They were all bony and muscular, looking like they’re spending their lives in nature, running and eating nothing but blue berries. And as the leader told us: “a tempo run should be at least 2 times 25-30 min running in race pace, about 5 min rest in between”. Didn’t listen too much when he described the trail, as I wasn’t exactly gonna take the lead.

I wont even tell you what race pace meant to them.

I’ll tell you what it meant to me: I could not even follow them when warming up. Had to take a short cut.

And when it came to the actual tempo running – they just disappeared.

I was so tired, lonely, full of waffles, running for my life but couldn’t even see where they went. Like running in chewing gum. Or like a crimple trying to talk herself into the Olympic beds … I mean games. Sleep tight and don’t even ask me if I did my Thursday Schedule.