You're quiet

I sat in the Doctor's waiting room this morning reading Murakami's 'What I talk about when I talk about running'. It's described as equal parts travelogue, training log and reminiscence, as the author reflects upon the influence running has had on his life.

I'm not far into the book enough to form any opinions, but I'm already struck by the similar character traits I share with Murakami who describes being the type of person who "doesn't find it painful to be alone." 

I've always been quite introspective. These days that's not seen as the negative character trait it once was. It's almost fashionable to be an introvert and it's not as socially acceptable for the more brash among us to blurt out: "you're quiet." I've always hated that. 

While I do enjoy socialising with the right people, running - especially in nature - provides a breathing space from the business and noise of the modern world.

I started reading Murakami's book on the back of 'Dirtbag Dreams' by Carl Morris. While it has the feel of an essay at times, it's a comprehensive insight to the history of mountain, ultra and trail running. It prompted me to watch a few old films on the subject and I recently discovered in its pages that the great mountain runner Anton Krupicka once wrote a blog on this very platform about his exploits. 

Despite blogs going out of fashion about 15 years ago, it inspired me to write a bit more. Krupicka wrote: "The internet allows others to see you - provides an audience - and helps tremendously to validate one's existence." While I relate to that when I post running content on social media, I personally couldn't care less if no one else reads my blog. I find it therapeutic. 

So anyway, back to the waiting room. I was called in; weighed, measured and had my blood pressure taken. It  was an annual check up, I guess I'm that age now! Everything was fine and when I described what I'd been through in 2025, the Nurse told me to be a bit kinder to myself. It's good advice. As much as I've wanted to pick up where I left off, it doesn't work like that. It takes time. If I'm still a bit slower and more overweight than I was, that's to be expected. "Live a little," she reminded me.

So that's what I intend to do, as I approach my 44th Birthday. I have plans over the weekend with my incredible Daughter and my brilliant, supportive partner.

I've got the Donfaster 5K on Friday. I was targeting a lifetime PB (under 19:12) but I don't think that's achievable right now. Maybe before the year is out. I'll use the race as a baseline to see where I'm at.

I'm looking at some more Fell Races over the Summer and there's the Round Sheffield Run coming up. I'm also considering my first Track and Field event which falls exactly one year since my final round of chemotherapy.

Last week I got my first running trophy in years, Third placed Vet 40 in the Mixed Services Cross Country League. I'd saved my best run for the last fixture of the season and finished the race in the top 10. It's a small achievement but felt very big, only 9 months into my recovery.

Perhaps there's a whole new world of Master's Athletics calling to me.