Tonky Talk BY PAUL TONKINSON
RUNNING GAGS by Rick Pearson
T
here has been something of an uptick in my fortunes over the past few weeks, which I’m sure many of you will be pleased about. I’m aware this column has morphed into ‘the injury chronicles’ of late, a litany of running-related distress. Every month, another injury – calves, groin, back, knee. But lo, with a bound, it seems I’m now free. For a month or so there’s been no injury to speak of. I’d like to say that it’s been because I’ve been so assiduous in my injury prevention routine, but it’s not really – I did a few exercises for the knee but it sort of just went. I’m living and running pain-free now. I can drive for a few hours and actually get out of the car and walk away from it without a problem, as opposed to stepping out gingerly, breathless with pain, wincing before leaning against the door in agony. This has coincided with a period of much less drinking (a change that finally feels permanent). So I’ve lost a bit of weight, and I’ve been doing more running. Not loads more – I’m on four solid runs a week now – but it feels good and on some parkruns I can feel my body beginning to want to race. I’m slower than I was ‘back in the day’, but I’m getting faster every week and less worried about breaking down. Last Saturday I sprinted to the finish – a low-armed sprint but a sprint nonetheless, and it felt great. So, I can begin to plan a bit, and this summer the big race for me is Race to the Stones in July – finally, an ultra. The idea is to do it over two days. A large part of me wanted to do the whole 100km in one go but I’ve been persuaded – words like ‘camaraderie’ have been bandied about, and I’m a big fan of that stuff. I love the idea of a campside chat with like-minded souls before the next day’s
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Furious, I arrived at my local swimming pool, swore at the lifeguard and entered the deep end via running bomb. I proceeded to splash about in a rage for 20 minutes, before being told to leave. Have I misunderstood the meaning of cross training?
adventure. I’ve heard tales of guitars and singalongs so it’s not all good but, suffice to say, fun will be had. This means I’m going to have do some increasingly long runs in preparation, and get used to running tired. It’s like the sub-three push, but more about time on your feet. So I set out for my first long run in about 18 months. Twelve miles or so, easy like Sunday morning, though it was actually a Tuesday. You go through phases with the long run. It’s simple-minded to say that it gets harder the longer you run – it does and it doesn’t. For the last few miles, you’re running into the fatigue. It’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. The beginning of a bone tiredness, sweat drying off in the midday sun, stride shortening a bit. But then, slowly, there is a breakingthrough sensation. It’s like the run is slowly burning off all excess, physical and psychological. I’m not thinking now, just moving, and I know this feeling. Later in the day it will carry me – although physically tired I’ll be mentally sharper, and more relaxed. I’ve been through something, shredded but cleansed. Into the last mile I found myself running a bit faster, a happiness welling up in me – though let’s not kid ourselves, the acceleration was probably imperceptible to the naked eye. To the observer I was just a tired, clumsy-looking middle-aged man sweating his way home, but to live inside that moment – euphoria! I want to run and run and run. This is enough for me – and I know that you’ll understand. This is the life we’ve chosen.
Paul is a stand-up comedian and co-host of the Running Commentary podcast. His book 26.2 Miles To Happiness is out now
I L LU S T R AT I O N : P I E TA R I P O S T I
I’M FINALLY INJURY-FREE AND FEELING ULTRA-FOCUSED
