In my dreams, my running feels rhythmical and comfortable, my thoughts come and go and for the most part, I am in the moment. Mindful running.
In reality, my thoughts dart about in bids to distract/motivate/endure. There are moments of being in the moment, because the sun feels good on my face, or the scenery is particularly beautiful, or the run feels hard, or cold, or the wind is buffeting me, but mostly, I think about the shape of the charts in the stats, like mountain ranges… the way pace and elevation mirror one another, one going up, while the other goes down… would a slow motion camera disqualify me from jogging in the way that Olympic walkers get disqualified for both feet being off the ground at the same time - but in my case, for both feet being on the ground… not being able to hop on one leg… writing this post… how silly that I go marginally faster when I am observed… how easy it can feel one moment, and how hard the next… oooh, negative splits...
My mind is a bottomless pit of thoughts, when jogging.
It works insofar as 25 minutes was achieved, but it’s a long way from zen.
The hopping thing is interesting. I probably could hop on one leg, but I have no padding in the knees, so it is jarring and painful, and my mind/body says no and refuses to do it. I felt knee pain today on the cool down walk, when I was tired and trying to walk a little faster, overextending slightly, and felt the possibility of my knee locking. It’s a subtle twinge - I have become expert in deciphering (my) pain, over the past few years. Knowing what is a warning, when to stop, when to accept it will hurt and push through anyway.
One of the puzzles this time around in C25K is working out/separating limits of not just fitness and mind, but joints, too. When is the pace too fast for my knees to cope? Dare I say it, though I am far from fast, I think I’m getting to the point where that question can be answered.