Running is often considered a solitary sport, but in my experience, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Running has introduced more friendships into my life than just about anything else, friendships that have a kind of immediacy and depth which I suspect is attributable to the shared suffering the sport provides. Which is perhaps why I have been in something of a funk recently.
I’m not an explicitly extraverted person – I’m in the middle of the distribution, in fact, for introversion/extraversion – but I do have a hard time sourcing motivation internally. I can dream up and plan big solo adventures, but day to day, community forms the backbone of all my endeavours, be they creative or athletic (the line between these two domains is often blurry – but that’s another blog post.)
The particular corner of south Hertfordshire/northwest London that I grew up in is blessed with miles of accessible off-road running right from my doorstep. Having returned from 18 months overseas in late March, I had been so looking forward to getting back on these hometown trails, and almost within hours of landing at Gatwick I was ankle-deep in the sloppy mud that defines so much of this terrain until around April.
But the joy of being back quickly soured as the pandemic grew from bad to worse, and the UK sank to its knees. Jobless, goalless, and now with no chance of seeing friends whose company I’d pined for for months, I’ll be the first to admit that my psyche took a bit of a bruising during lockdown.
The first few weeks were relatively optimistic, as I think they were for many people – a feeling of unity and togetherness in the face of a common enemy enveloped the nation. But after the lockdown was extended, and after weeks of job applications to no avail, my spirit was beginning to wane a little.
Knowing myself, and knowing how prone I am to apocalyptic thinking, I adopted the time-honoured tradition of Carrying On Regardless. Running-wise, my weekly mileage ratcheted up from a tepid 50km a week to a slightly warm under the collar 70km. Each day, for a few pleasant hours post-run, the world once again seemed to glisten with potential.
I clung to the Zoom chats, to the Netflix sessions, and to countryside walks with my partner. I counted my blessings, and reflected upon how much worse off I could be, how much worse off so many others must be. I planned adventures for later in the year, or perhaps later next year. I road my bike. I tried to find myself a star to wish upon.
More often than we might like, the only thing we can do is keep on going. This is, I think, the definition of faith – knowing that eventually the darkness will lift, so long as we don’t abandon the struggle.
And do you know what? Lift, it did.
One Community
When the folks at Centurion Running announced the One Community event, I ummed and ahed for some time before opting to take on the 100 mile option. This decision lasted all of five days before I adjusted my entry down a notch to the 50 mile event.
With my first 50 mile race still theoretically scheduled for early July, I didn’t want to jeopardise my chances of success by running my highest mileage ever just five weeks out. I’m really glad I did downgrade, as it gave me much more room to enjoy the event for what it really was – a personal challenge, yes, but one embedded in fun, and a celebration of community.
Each day, the Centurion Running Facebook group was flooded with updates as people took on their own adventures. Some opted to run their full distance in one go, others (like me) spread it out across the week.
Dropping my mileage down from 100 to 50 also allowed me to include much more vertical gain than would otherwise have been achievable, which, again, is more fun!
For those who like numbers, here are mine. I’ve rounded all my figures out to single decimal points.
Monday – Rest day
Tuesday – 10.1km/234m (6.3 miles/767 feet)
Wednesday – 14.3km/389m (8.9 miles/1276 feet)
Thursday – 6.3km/105m (3.9 miles/344 feet)
Friday – 17.3km/217m (10.7 miles/711 feet)
Saturday – 10km/127m (6.2 miles/416 feet)
Sunday – 32km/642m (19.8 miles/2106 feet)
Total – 90km/1715m (55.9 miles/5626 feet)
A particular highlight for me was running with my then-Strava-buddy-turned-real-buddy Spencer, who opted on the Friday to complete his 100 miles for the week in one big push.
Spencer’s route took the form of two 25 mile out-and-backs along the northwest section London LOOP, a route very dear to my heart. I joined him somewhere around the 45 mile mark on Friday afternoon with a Coke in hand – no risk of disqualification in this event. We ran from Aldenham reservoir to his home in in Stanmore, where he changed into fresh gear and was treated to a first class aid station service courtesy of his wife Claire.
After he’d freshened up, joined by fellow OC-ers Sonny and Linda, we headed up Clamp Hill and through Harrow Weald Common to Oxhey Lane, where I left the pack to head home. Spencer looked pretty fresh for a man who’d already run 50+ miles that day, and he went on to run through the night for a solid finish in 26:13.
Having spent so much time running alone this past few weeks, it was really invigorating to not only run with company, but to feel part of a genuine adventure. It was the kind of balmy, sun-soaked evening that evokes in me a deep nostalgia for the endless summer holidays of childhood, and for a few hours I counted myself very blessed indeed to have found this remarkable sport.