The End of a Run Streak

 At the start of the year, I decided the time had come to end my run streak.  (For the uninitiated here, I'm talking about a streak of running for consecutive days without a break - nothing to do with nudity.) I had reached 108 days, the longest run streak I have ever done, and the streak had served its purpose.  It had kept me going throughout the autumn months and the run up to Christmas when I realised that, after a slow start, I could still just about reach my yearly target of 1000 miles, as long as I went out every day and upped my mileage a bit.  I felt fitter as a result of it and I noticed that my parkrun times consistently improved when I was running every day.

However, once my target for 2022 was reached and we were into New Year, I quickly realised that the daily run streak was becoming a bit of a drag, an annoying thing to be ticked off every day.  I began to wonder why I was still doing it, what it was actually achieving.  The crunch came when, after one particularly busy and stressful day, I made myself jump on the treadmill to do a mile, just to keep the streak going.  It felt pointless and faintly ridiculous.  Up until then my run streak rule was that each day's run must be a minimum of 3.1 miles.  Doing a mere mile just to be able to say I was still on an unbroken run streak felt a bit like cheating.  What was the plan anyway?  To reach 150 days?  200 days?  365 days?  To go on for all eternity?  Wasn't 100 days of running enough to prove to myself that I had stamina, guts, determination and motivation?  What was the point of doing anymore, beyond being able to announce it on social media and get lots of "well dones"?  So, I decided the run-streak had to go.  

When I mentioned in one of my online running groups that I'd ended my streak, one person commented that deciding to break a run streak is actually just as much an achievement as keeping it going, and I completely understand what they meant.  If something motivates you, then by all means keep it going.  It's still serving its purpose, and that's a good thing.  But if it's become an obsession, another unnecessary test that you feel you have to pass rather than fail each day, then that isn't particularly healthy.  It's a bit like being obsessed with dieting and getting an unhealthy buzz from just feeling like you're in control.  What starts off as a sensible and healthy monitoring of what you eat turns into another stick to beat yourself with.  So, instead of being a slave to a run streak that didn't give me any sense of pride or joy anymore, I set myself free from it.  

If I'd feared that my running would suddenly feel aimless without it, I was wrong.  On the contrary, I began to find the joy again.  I still run most days, but I don't stress if I miss a day.  Knowing that I can actively choose to miss a day feels quite refreshing.  I'm much more relaxed to be going with the flow for a while.  I tell myself I'm 'wintering'.  Just as the natural world slows down in winter, my running becomes less intense.  It feels very liberating.  

In the past, the first thing I've done at New Year is sign up for some virtual challenge or other, one of these where you track your miles and run the equivalent of John o Groats to Lands End or across the Sahara or something.  I'm not knocking these challenges - they are great.  I'm not saying I won't sign up for something like that again eventually, but right now I'm enjoying NOT being signed up for a challenge.  The new year is like a blank page and I'm happy just to see where my running takes me.  Sometimes you find challenges without looking for them anyway.  Last week, for instance, after a spell of sub zero temperatures, one of the few local parkruns not to be cancelled was running its alternative winter course.  It was one of the toughest parkruns I have ever done and I felt quietly proud of myself for getting up a steep, slog of a hill, strewn with bumpy layers of frozen leaves and rutted mud, not once, not twice but three times, not to mention surviving those scary slippery downhills that followed.  I recorded my slowest parkrun time in about 5 years but I felt elated.  It was one of those runs that reminded me that I'm strong.  You don't always need a medal or a finisher T-shirt or loads of kudos to feel like that.

So, I'm quite excited to see where the rest of the year will take me. I have a few ideas of what I want to do - a pilgrimage to Bushy Park for a spring parkrun is one of them and a 10K around the Yorkshire Wildlife Park, but I'm resisting any temptation to take on too much.  With running it's never dull and it has this way of surprising you.  Just when you think you're doing yet another bog standard jog along a route you've done hundreds of times before, something can happen that makes it amazing.  You might spot a deer or a bird or flower you've not noticed before, or you might just find yourself listening to the right song on the right playlist at the right time, which puts you in a great mood, makes you feel invincible.  You may realise that you've tackled a previously tricky hill without batting an eyelid, or you've noticed the first newborn lambs of the year.   There's always a real chance that you'll experience something new and magical and right now that's good enough for me.