A number of factors – minor illness, interruptions, work priorities, and the lure of shorter Parkruns – conspired to ruin the start of this year’s jogging. Suddenly every had me out of breath and alarmed. In the second half of February, I found myself part-walking more times than not.
We hiked near Camperdown last week and the walks were mild enough to allow me to run three times. Each time I yelled: “I’m getting my running mojo back!” Jogging in the country is a sublime experience, which helped, but each run was a long downhill into town and then a painful climb back out. Number 1 was 5 kms: I ran slowly enough to ensure I felt confident. Number 2 was 8 kms: I had to part walk the hill. Number 3 repeated the 8 kms: I ran so much like a tortoise that one kilometer was the slowest I’ve ever done (8 minutes!) but I was overjoyed to complete without a stop.
Then, back here in Hawthorn, I tackled one of my toughest 10-km routes and was amazed to get it done with ease (slow, slow, slow at 7 mins/km). My mojo is back! I’m determined to keep a tight hold of the slippery sucker.