Roller Coaster

As I dragged myself through a muddy and undulating 6 mile cross country course last week, it occurred to me that running is often an excellent metaphor for life. There were times, although fleeting, when everything felt easy. There were times when it was a real struggle and the doubts would creep in. Sometimes you just have to hang in there and keep going.


Agatha Christie once wrote: "I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

I finished the race somewhere among the top half of the pack. The finishing times ranged from an absurd 35 minutes in first place to 93 minutes in last place. I'm still interested in my times and trying to better myself, but it's become less important than the ritual of participation. Anyone can not do something. Runners know they have achieved something just by taking part. The absolute legend who took 93 minutes to complete the course happens to be 82 years old. He stubbornly insisted on tackling every one of the hills that amounted to 950 feet in total. The Marshalls gave him the option of bypassing the final one. He declined.

I did a bit of marshalling myself recently. I volunteered for my Club at the Half Marathon and was given water station duties. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Again, I was struck by how much respect and admiration the brave girl at the back of the field was given as she battled along in last place. It's easy to watch and make assumptions about people without knowing what they have been through or what they are battling against. Again, running was echoing life. This girl may have finished last but she beat everyone sat at home on the sofa. 

I've got two races next week, another cross country and a 10km road race. There is just enough time to squeeze a fell race in on New Year's Eve. I don't think I'm quite back to where I was pre-APML, but I'm making excellent progress and I'm excited to see what 2026 will bring.



 

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