January 14th 2019
Today I tried my best not to get drawn into committing to another running target. I went for a group 10k run at lunch, and found it easier than I once would have. 8km in one of the guys said to me “you’re barely even sweating”, and it was true.
I mean, that could partly be because of how cold it was, but also because running isn’t as hard as it used to be. And I’m better at it.
The pace we were going at, and the route we ran today would have once left me blowing out my ass, if you’ll excuse the expression.
Halfway through the route there’s a brief bit of reasonably steep but completely optional incline. In the past, I’ve chosen to not take the option to climb that particular hill, but today I was the first one to the top. And, without proverbially blowing my own metaphorical trumpet too hard, I made it up far before some of the rest of the group.
I think that prompted, on the way back, one of the guys to partly joke that he’ll make a running bet with me.
He wants to beat a 20 minute 5k, and thinks he’ll be more motivated to do so if he’s competing with someone.
Yet, while I completely agree with his sentiment, I am hesitant.
I set that same goal last year; a sub 20. And I failed miserably.
Now, already this year (not even two weeks in) I have knocked 70 seconds off my previous 5km best (and am now down to 21:22), so the evidence shows that this year could be different, but I didn’t want to set timed goals this year.
I made that mistake last year, and it made me feel shit when I was nowhere near what I set out to achieve.
This year all I want from running is to enjoy it more. Currently I’m on target to do that, and that feels really great.
I’m not sure I want to ruin that by accepting a bet that will make me run because I have to, rather than because I want to.
Until tomorrow, it would be nice to win the bet though…