Normally I like to have a huge, Ricky Hatton style blow out after a marathon. I used to think that after 5 months of stopping yourself having all the things you want, you deserve to 'let go' and enjoy life to excess. I like to take a month to take loads of drugs, drink every day, eat take aways, and dine out with my friends.
This year has been an odd one though, my height of debauchery was going for a Sunday roast after the race and drinking a bottle of wine to myself. I shunned going to the nightclubs and the drugs. The most drunk I got was last Saturday, and even then I was in bed by 1am, sober enough to read the end of my A C Grayling book. I just didn't want to do more than that. I'll admit, I've eaten a obscene amount of Easter eggs for one man. I am now also being stalked by Firezza pizza, who Email me and text me at the strangest times of day, but this is as far as it's gone. And I can't put my finger on why.
Is my heart not in it? Or is my body too old for all that? It can't be my body, if I can run a marathon, I know I've still got a 24 hour party in me, so it must be the mind. But it's all very strange.
And I still couldn't get my running back into swing. After what happened last time (see last blog) I just couldn't look at running and enjoy it. Every time I set out it felt difficult and hard, like it just wasn't worth doing anymore, the effort of going round was just too much to bare, and I wrestled with my head as to what to do and then I made a decision.................I gave up running. I gave up on the one thing that has focused and defined me over the last 2 years. I gave up on what I loved, and walked away.
I didn't even tell anyone, I just carried on as before, entering races, looking at trail marathons on the net, securing a fast corral for the Chicago marathon, I even re-applied for London next year! I just ignored the actual running part. I just didn't want to try, if it wasn't going to be as easy as before then I was going to do something else. I needed a diversion.
So I went cycling. Cycling had been sniffing around me for a while now, waiting for the chance to take up more of my time. At first I just let it take me to work, get me things, and save me money, but I always knew it wanted to take things further, so last week we set off. We had a lovely day, I cycled for hours, all over London. Then the next day I'd finish work and cycle for two hours before finding myself miles from home, then I'd race all the way back. It was new and fun. I forgot about running and everything it meant to me, and I just enjoyed the carefree cycling life. It gave me all the things that running did, the high of exercise, the sweat, and the adrenaline, but it was really safe and easy, there's no real effort in it. I felt like I was doing it to escape running, rather than doing it because I loved doing it.
But I constantly feel that there's something missing, a void that no amount of miles on the bike can fill. There's a feeling when I run that I only get at that second, it's the moment when you feel complete, when your mind is so in touch with your body that you can feel every muscle, and hear every breath speak to you. When you know that your body is tiring but you find that you can quicken the pace, when your body speaks to you and allows you to push further, run longer, and push your limit to the furthest point, and then beyond it.
And I can't get that sitting happily on a saddle, it's really easy and I should really like it, but somethings missing.
I wake up at 4:47am, I need to piss. I go back to my room and sit naked on the corner of my bed. I feel like I need to do something, like the feeling you get when you leave the house and you know you've forgotten something, I feel a bit like that. I put on some shorts, and then a vest, then for some reason I have a pair of trainers on, and I start to reach for my stop watch and headphones. Then, as if it wasn't even me, I turn around and run out of the house without them.
Then I ran and ran. Down streets I'd never been down, through junctions I didn't know, alongside churches I'd never seen. I didn't even know where I was going. The only thing I saw was a fox trying to hide something he'd stolen.
Then a memory came into my head of when I tried to steal my cousins M.A.S.K Matt Trakker figure and flying car when he was at my house.
I was 7, and he was 5, and he'd bought this figure with him and I wanted it. He wasn't keen on sharing, well, who is at 5? I wouldn't have given it to him either, so I spent the day quietly fuming that he wouldn't let me play with it. Towards the end of the day he'd grown tired and fallen asleep on his Mum's lap, and they finally announced that it was time to go,
'this is it' I thought 'my chance to steal his toy'
And I hid it.
While his family gathered all their stuff he was still sleeping, my Auntie carried him through the house, then, as if he knew what I'd done, he started asking for his Matt Trakker doll, pleading for it and whining. So my Uncle tries to find, but he can't. Then my mum starts and she can't find it, then eventually my Dad pulls away all the cushions off the sofa and finds Trakker inexplicably pushed down into the very bottom of the sofa. There was no way it could have got there by accident. Everyone looked at me and knew what I'd done, except for Owen my cousin, who quietly opened his eyes a tiny bit, looked at me, and smiled a little self satisfied smile.
The little shit.
As that memory popped out of my mind I looked around and realized that I had no idea where I was, but I kept running anyway, I could see the Emirates but didn't really know what side of it I was on, but I eventually found a road I knew and ran all the way home.
I don't know how far I ran, I don't know how long I ran for, I just knew that I felt complete again.
I got into the house and my bike was waiting for me on the landing,
"where have you been?" it asked, trying to be casual,
"running" I said through heavy breaths,
"Are we still cycling to Chiswick today?"
"I don't think so, that run has done me for today"
"oh I see, back to the running are you? So it's back to the work run for me then is it?"
"No, me and running are over, I'm just back to being me"
I push pass my bike and walk into my room, I've got a text from an unknown number,
it reads,
'Gareth, why don't you take advantage of our Thursday, pizza for 1 meal deal offer?'
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