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A mile a day: lessons learnt.

Now then. Let’s think about what learnt this month before we formally wrap up this challenge. I’ve got a few things on my mind:

1) I still really love running. I know a mile doesn’t seem like (and really isn’t) much, but it’s always the faff of getting ready, putting the kit on and getting out that’s the worst. However, I’ve not once regretted a run having completed it - honestly, not once. 

2) Discipline is key, key, key. Knowing that I had to go out and run made sure I made time for it - be it in the morning before work, at lunchtime on the treadmill or in the evening after having drinks with friends. I find that I really need a schedule not to quit, otherwise it’s way too easy to miss a run once, twice, three times and then never really go back to it. 

3) Speaking of - running at lunchtime was life-changing. I absolutely hate the treadmill, but what I hate more is getting back home after a 10 hour working day, knowing I needed to get changed, get out there, come back, shower, cook dinner and then the day would be done. I’m lucky to have a gym literally next door to work, and popping out at lunchtime but then knowing I wouldn’t need to run in the dark when I get home was pretty incredible. 

4) I have PB’d in every distance up to, and including a mile, multiple times. I also broke the 10min mile and 6min km barriers, which I genuinely thought simply wasn’t possible for people who aren’t massively fit and a bit overweight, like me. 

5) Proper rest made a massive difference to my pace and how I felt whilst running. All of my best runs happened when I was on holiday, clocking in at least 9 hours of sleep every night. Go figure. 

6) People speak a lot about the running community being toxic, but it’s the ad-hoc runners that have honestly been the worst. There’s always one or two people that everyone knows who have high metabolism, are built like a runner and can go out and smash a sub-50 10k without having done anything for month. These people are the worst, and yet are always the keenest at volunteering unsolicited advice and opinions, starting from how long it should take to run a mile and ending with tutting when finding out that I, on most days, am not even a 10min/mile person. Honestly, these people can fuck off. If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it. 

7) Will I keep running every day? Absolutely fucking not. I will, however, keep running. If I can stay injury-free, I have a couple of Plan A/Plan B goals in mind for this year and fingers crossed I’ll be able to tick off at least some of them. The plan for now is to drop down to 3 runs a week for about two months whilst building distance, and then see how that goes. 

All in all, this was definitely 100% worth doing. Getting back into exercise is always the hardest, and I’m thrilled that I proved myself I could stick with this challenge through awful weather, long work days and a holiday to boot.

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A mile a day. Final week!

The last week is finally upon us! and i’m incredibly happy to say that every single run got done, bringing the total for the month to 28/29, which is a pretty solid effort. last 7 runs were as follows:

24th february, monday - 1.01miles, 10:51min per mile. A quick lap around the Verona arena before setting off for Sirmione. Was actually 1.5-ish miles but I forgot to start my Garmin. whoops.

25th february, tuesday - 1.40miles, 10:41min per mile. a run out of and back into sirmione first thing in the morning. some stunning scenes running next to lake Garda. if every run was like this, it would be way easier to motivate myself to get out there. 

26th february, wednesday - 1.23miles, 10:00min per mile. a quick vicenza dash and another hot of PBs - 1 mile, 1k and half mile. sleep and lots of carbs clearly doing wonders for me. 

27th february, thursday - 1.29miles, 10:05 min per mile. more PBs! another bassano track session and my fastest mile (9:37mins) and fastest km (5:43mins) to date. so exciting, as I never thought climbing out of 10s for a mile was really ever going to be possible for me. 

28th february, friday - 1.22miles, 11:14min per mile. legs are really tired and i’m starting to feel vague beginnings of shin splints, so taking it super easy. 

29th february, saturday - 1.08miles, 10:19min per mile. somehow the hardest run to do all month. we flew back home early in the morning and it was windy and miserable, and I knew it was the last day of the streak. i got out, i got it done, and this brings us to the e n d. 

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A mile a day. Week 3.

Possible the one where I struggled the most with motivation. Pre-holiday week, busy in work and a lot of stress, but here we go:

17th february, monday - 1.03miles, 10:23min per mile. just a quick lunchtime plod around marsden whilst working from home. 

18th february, tuesday - 1.10miles, 11:37min per mile. another horrific post-evening-out run in London in the pissing rain that I really didn’t want to do. gross.

19th february, wednesday - 1.07miles, 11:29min per mile. early morning pre-work run on an empty stomach. these ones never really work out that well but knowing i wouldn’t get home until gone 9pm, I knew it would have to be done before work. 

20th february, thursday - 1.02miles, 11:20min per mile. lunchtime treadmill. still just as miserable as ever.

21st february, friday - 1.02 miles, 11:30min per mile. see above.

22nd february, saturday - 1.24miles, 11:36min per mile. first holiday run in Bassano. freezing cold and took some real willpower to go out after getting up at 4:30am and spending 2 hours on the plane and then another one in the car. 

23rd february, sunday - 1.02miles, 10:15min per mile. I accidentally found a track in the park next to our Bassano hotel, and gave it my first ever go. unsurprisingly, running after having a proper rest is a lot easier. 

one more to go. let’s see if I can keep up with running whilst on holiday.

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A mile a day. Week 2.

Week two ticked off the list. Not without its challenge, but all 7 runs got done. 

10th february, monday - 2.07miles, 11:25 minutes per mile. first time venturing out the one mile club into the two mile club. legs felt nice and light. 

11th february, tuesday - 1.17miles, 11:10 minutes per mile. a quick out and back from the house during my lunch break. these miles have become somewhat of a habit and i tick this run off without giving it much thought. 

12th february, wednesday - 1.04 miles, 11:44 minutes per mile. usual office lunchtime treadmill hell. 

13th february, thursday - 1.07 miles, 11:29 minutes per mile. someone in work annoys me so i go and do some angry half-hearted intervals. I have really started to notice how having this outlet in running during working days is helping me not to spiral into getting easily annoyed. 

14th february, friday - 1.17miles, 12:02 minutes per mile. the one that has proven that my commitment to the streak is strong. i went out with work in london and got really quite drunk - checked into my hotel at midnight, put running gear on, did a loop around spitalfields and fell into bed. well then.

15th february, saturday - 3.11 miles, 11:19 minutes per mile. first 5km in a long time. a run around all of the old haunts in the isle of dogs. a bit sad, a bit nostalgic, but seeing the garmin clock in the 5th kilometre made me really, really happy. 

16th february, sunday -  1:06 miles, 10:19 minutes per mile. went out on some heavy, heavy legs given i clocked in 24,000 steps the day before and accidentally got a 400m, 1/2 mile and 1km (sub 6 minute!!) PB. 

we are halfway there. i’m feeling excited about running again. everything is aching a little bit more now that i started dabbling in distances that aren't 1 mile (listen to me. i used to be able to run 8 miles. what a joke.) but wanting to maintain the streak is keeping me motivated. 

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February. Running every day. Week 1.

Is it entirely coincidental that I picked the shortest month of the year to do this challenge? it might be. it might not be. let it be between me and my conscience. 

i just really, really needed something to help me get back into it. after my injury in May last year my running has been unstructured, sporadic, and never longer than 3 miles (and in fact, very rarely longer than 2 miles). 

it took a while to decide which distance was appropriate for a streak. definitely not a measly 1km, 2km isn't really a distance and 3km felt like a big push after months of doing virtually nothing. so, here goes. 

week 1 (ish).

1st february, saturday - starting with a bang with failing on day 1. we were in bristol for the weekend and I completely forgot that saturday would fall on the 1st of feb so didn’t bring any running gear with me. whoops.

2nd february, sunday - 1 mile, 11:28 minutes per mile. decided to do my first mile up and down the reservoir, which is as flat as anything, and genuinely thought I would vomit my lungs out after 1km. excellent start. 

3rd february, monday - 1 mile, 11:40 minutes per mile. treadmill runs are always awful, and always slower than running outside, so I was happy to take this for what it was. 

4th february, tuesday - 1.20 miles, 11:37 minutes per mile. more treadmill hell during my lunch break. 

5th february, wednesday = 1 mile, 11:49 minutes per mile. legs feel so heavy, and pure gym is so hot. grim. 

6th february, thursday - 1 mile, 13:33 minutes per mile. first attempt at running outside with Ted. the boy has worse fitness and a shorter attention span than me. 

7th february, friday - 1.30 miles, 10:36 minutes per mile. Finally climbed out of the 11s for the first time since starting this. 

8th february, saturday - 1 mile, 11:09 minutes per mile. beginning of storm Ciara. desperately cold and snot flying everywhere, but always feels good to get out of the house a little bit.

9th february, sunday - 1.23miles, 11:15 minutes per mile. one I desperately wanted to bail on due to the weather, but one that did wonders for my hangover. 

cautiously optimistic for the rest of the month. 

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#31 - what next?

first month of this 12 month challenge ticked off. i was late with one post, but otherwise have kept up with it. 

what have i learnt? 

first of all, that i am a right miserable witch sometimes. i have read back over all 30 entries before this, and i think at least half of them is me whinging about things. having said that, rather here than take it out on other people, who i’m sure wouldn’t appreciate that. 

second of all, i’m nowhere near as eloquent as i used to be. this is something that’s particularly difficult for me to accept, but i guess it is the result of not having been reading as much as i used to up until i started going to uni, or writing much of anything that isn’t reports for work. 

third of all, i keep swinging between having too much to say and not having much in my head at all. i think this is very much the case in my life outside of this blog - sometimes i talk to people and catch myself blabbering on as if i’m trying to catch up on all the talking i never did when i was in my late teens/early twenties, and other times i find it difficult to maintain the simplest of conversations and (probably, inevitably) come across as thoroughly disengaging. 

i think i am ready to move on from this one. i will continue writing, but will probably pick up one of my hundreds of blank notebooks instead. i don't want it to be a chore, but I have gotten the taste for it back - mainly as a way to cope with my stress levels, when they cross the bridge between ‘mildly irritating’ and ‘almost unbearable’.

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#30 - on running

we are approaching the end of the month. i am about to embark on challenge number 2 - running a mile every day, for 29 days. i’ve been dreading it, and it’s not a coincidence that i have chosen the shortest month for this particular one. 

i am afraid of finding out just how much fitness i’ve lost. i’m afraid of getting injured again. i’m afraid of never getting back to the level my running was at before my injury, let alone better than that.

i’m afraid of failing and letting myself down. afraid that i won't be able to stick with it, that i’ll find excuses, that i’ll give up. 

what was my thinking behind all of this?

well, first of all, i find streaks like this keep me disciplined. i need a plan, as rigid as possible, otherwise i will keep putting runs off until i try and do all of them in three consecutive days between friday and sunday or end up skipping one or two altogether.

however, i’m also injury prone. if i tried to go from nothing to running even 14 miles a week, i’m sure i’d end up with a dodgy ankle again very, very quickly. 

a mile seems manageable in my head. less scary. the intention is to start with one mile a day, but then see if i get the bug back - if one day i go out running and it’ll just feel right to keep going instead of turning back after half a mile. i’m hoping that's something that’s going to happen naturally. i want it to happen so bad. 

last spring, in the run up to my ankle injury, i felt amazing. i was the fittest i’ve ever been, i enjoyed running, i enjoyed keeping my body moving. i remember running over to slawit on a particularly lovely, sunny but cool day, listening to ‘the reason to grow old’ and almost bursting into tears because everything felt so right. 

i want that back. i want to be strong again. this feels like the right way to start going about getting there, getting out of the slump and start covering some small distances. for now. and then - well, i guess we’ll see. i hope i will eventually have that pesky half marathon in me. 

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#29 - on driving

I am 27 (twenty-seven) years old, and I still think learning to drive was one of my biggest achievement. I cannot put into words just how much I hated it. the lessons, my inability to do press pedals and change gears at the same time, the fear of not knowing what other drivers were going to do, the fear of S P E E D.

it is known to almost everyone that i sat the test three times, and passed - just, on the brink of failing based on the number of minors. i found it hard to get in the car on my own once i passed, even though, on some level, i did enjoy *having a car*.

it has now been just over two years since that third test. i recently celebrated finally having 12 points to play with instead of 6, even though i’m yet to receive any. i think i finally love driving. 

can it really be? it is still annoying, i still hate most other people on the road, but this morning i was on my way to darlington, driving down the m62 after clearing the worst of the morning rush hour traffic, the sun was rising over leeds and i couldn’t help but smile to myself. 

you can go anywhere with a full tank.

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#28 - on embarrassment

now then, what’s ‘second hand embarrassment’, but when you’re talking about yourself? just embarrassment? first-hand embarrassment? self-embarrassment? 

I feel that quite a lot when I think about the past, and not necessarily about things that were truly embarrassing, but rather about certain things that I was naive enough, or young enough, to believe to be true at that point in time.

about things people told me, or the things i used to think, or the things i used to do. sometimes i will come across a text message from a few years ago, or an email, or god knows what else and i feel so physically uncomfortable i want to crawl out of my own skin. this wasn’t real. this wasn’t real. 

for the same reason, in the most pathetic of ways, i still can’t listen to ‘hands down’ by dashboard confessional. i associate it so strongly with things i want to forget, and with moments where i really want to take myself out of the frame and pretend to never have been in the frame in the first place. 

it’s not even a good fucking song anyway. 

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#27 - on empathy

I would like to think of myself as of a fairly empathetic person. when it comes to people i care about, i very frequently find myself taking on their problems as if they were my own.

and yet, sometimes i can be very harsh, bordering on cruel. because i live my life with a clear understanding of what (for me) is right and wrong, when a person does not conform to it, I give up on them completely. if i think of someone as of a fundamentally ‘bad’ person - and i’m using the word ‘bad’ here as a proxy for what i deem to be ‘bad’, of course - the game is over. and as soon as i give up, i will also immediately give up on feeling any sort of empathy towards them. 

I understand, if i think rationally, that I am being unreasonable, and no matter how i feel about them, they probably don’t deserve it; and yet, in my head i have already decided. i have dismissed them, and their concerns. 

i never wish ill on anyone, i really never do - but i would like to learn more compassion, even towards people that aren’t, and likely will never be my cup of tea. i want to learn to give people a second chance, in a way that is rooted in sincere wish to see the best in people, rather than because i think it is ‘the right thing to do’. 

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#26 - on habits

there is a common misconception that it takes 21 days to form a habit. in fact, many studies have since proven that it’s probably more like in excess of two months. I have now, however, been writing daily for almost a month. not all of this has been ‘deep’ (in fact, very little of this has been deep or really of any interest at all), but most days i’m finding it a nice release.

from what? god knows. sometimes of things that are weighing on me throughout the day, but aren’t major enough to actually discuss with anyone in person. sometimes of things that are petty and silly and i don’t want to be talking to anyone about. 

most days. for a few days it has felt like hard work. I would sit down, open tumblr and have absolutely nothing to say. that has been good too, though, because it is teaching me more about discipline and sticking to things even when frankly, I just can’t be fucked.

in a few days i’ll be moving on to another month, another challenge, another set of mental barriers to overcome. but i’m hoping i will be sticking to writing - maybe not every day, but at least every other day, or every two days. we’ll see. 

is 31 day enough to form a habit?

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#25 - on lithuanian language

i like languages. i’ve always enjoyed learning them, speaking them, realising that something that previously was some random letters on a piece of paper, or sounded like gibberish on tv, all of a sudden started making sense. 

and yet, no other language ever gave me the same satisfaction as lithuanian did. learning lithuanian was a right old slog - i started back when i lived in moscow, but already knew we would be moving. i hated the teacher, and the language made no sense. then i moved, started going to a russian school, and the lithuanian teacher was perfectly content with me sitting in the back of the class - saying nothing, contributing nothing, doing nothing. 

everything changed in high school. we switched language groups, and all of a sudden i was faced with the prospect of failing the class if i wasn’t at least seen to be trying. i tried, i really did - and yet it took 2.5 years until i started feeling comfortable. but, as soon as i realised i no longer panicked when i had to ask for a bus ticket in lithuanian, or respond to people asking for directions, i realised just how beautiful the language was. i loved, and still love, everything about it - the way in which it is just as complex as russian, the ą č ę ė į š ū ž, the inflections in tone - e v e r y t h i n g. 

with every language, once you break the initial barrier, everything just seems to fall into place. once it did, i started taking such pleasure in speaking lithuanian - in a way that is very unusual for money, i could hear the words coming out of mouth and was almost savouring them. it’s so, so, so beautiful. it’s a language that i want my children to speak, and a language that i want to be preserved - forever. 

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#24 - on food

after many years, cooking remains the only thing that can calm me down no matter how stressful i’m feeling. i only started getting enjoyment out of cooking when i started living on my own - back at home, i couldn’t even light the gas stove without having a mild panic attack.

when i moved to edinburgh, having little money month after month meant I couldn’t go out to eat. it was a big change from my childhood and adulthood, when mum, dad and i used to go to the same favourite restaurants over and over - just by ourselves, or with friends, or family. learning to cook gave me an opportunity to make whatever I wanted to eat at home, instead of digging myself into a deep overdraft hole. 

i remember making lasagne for the first time and being absolutely blown away by the fact that something that i previously only associated with professional kitchens could easily be made at home. i started with jarred sauces, spice packs and a tonne of cheddar on top; after a few years i would start happily spending hours making my own ragu, whipping up béchamel and carefully layering mozzarella on top.

my taste in food has change significantly over the years, but one thing really has remained the same - when i feel a little bit on edge, or close to succumbing to a pit of despair, there is nothing that re-centres me more than chopping, stirring, sautéing, steaming and, eventually, ending up with something that reminds me that really, there are very few meals out there that are truly worth paying restaurant-level money for. 

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#23 - on not having much to say

I’m afraid I’m no good these days when it comes to anything of substance. consistently sick with worry. worrying reflects badly on other areas of my life, making me feel really insecure just about everything. 

insecurity is making me way more sensitive than i should be. listening to every inflection of other people’s voices, paying attention to the smallest things, worrying about whether i somehow, unbeknownst even to myself, fucked up, or annoyed them, or did something wrong. 

vicious, vicious, vicious circle. when i embarked on this 30 days of writing challenge, I anticipated there to be more profound musings about art, and literature, and music - and way, way, way less of this. but i guess that’s life. 

i feel so lost.

i 

want

out

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#22 - on god knows what

the reason why I still seek out new friendships, new relationships with people, new acquaintances, even though I can’t say, hand on heart, that I’m lacking any of those things, is because of that magnificent feeling of getting. to. know. someone. from nothing. from a point where, at the very most, you know each other’s names and have crossed paths at work, or through mutual friends, or whatever. 

some of the loveliest times in my life were spending getting to know people I had a hunch I would like. I think most of us have had this moment at least once in our lives - where you’re sitting with someone, over a coffee or a pint or whatever, and you’re talking, and the conversation is flowing so easily, and you just get. on. there’s always that look on the other person’s face that immediately tells you - they are having a good time, they are enjoying it as much as you are. 

some of my best friendships started with a moment like that. most of my relationships over the years started that way also. it’s addictive and i miss it. the older i get, the easier it is to give up on seeking it out completely, or rather, the more difficult it becomes to actually seek it out. something about being comfortable - both for better and for worse.

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#21 - on sadness

it’s incredible how much more physical sadness is than happiness. the feeling on sadness is inherently something that you can feel all the way through your bones. 

it’s the knot in your stomach. the weight on your shoulders. the swelling in your heart. it’s someone holding all of your insides in a tight, tight fist - not letting go, making it harder and harder to breathe.

‘there is light, but there’s a tunnel to crawl through

there is love, but its misery loves you’

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#20 - on pubs

drinking alone is generally frowned upon - and for a good reason. there is generally some sense of desperation, of loneliness, of lack of self control surrounding it. except it doesn’t always have to be like that. 

i find going to pubs alone a nice way to disappear whilst still remaining firmly amongst people. having to travel for work meant i frequently found myself in a pub, on my own, with a book - reading, people watching, passing time. 

over the years, I have put together quite a list of ‘being-on-your-own’ pubs, up and down the country. all of them mean something to me, evoke some sort of memory - not necessarily good or bad, often times of simply sitting around and not feeling in any particular way at all. 

there are

left handed giant in bristol 

the betjeman arms in london

crafty devil in cardiff 

the raven in bath

the cross keys in notts

sheffield tap in sheffield 

head of steam in hudds

beatnikz in manchester 

the adelphi in leeds

the fat gadgie in carlisle

the library bar in edinburgh 

the howlin’ wolf in glasgow

pivni in york

have I mentioned they were up and down the country? i’m sure there would be many, many more if I spent more time thinking about it - of every single time when, more often than not a bit sad, and almost always a bit exhausted, I found a quiet seat in a noisy pub, ordered a pint and just. breathed. out.