The Line...

It's that time of year.

It's Christmas. Christmas means different things to different people, for different reasons.

For some, it's the storm before the calm of a New Year; it can be the license to let your hair down and your stomach out before starting over; or, even the mayhem before drawing a line in the sand.




That line comes in different forms. It too means different things to different people.
It can be about:

• stating a point beyond which you will not go
• indicating a point where you've had enough (draw 'the line')
• highlighting a time when you're about to change direction, take a different tact; to change
• to highlight something new, bold and adventurous (to put in on 'the line')
• emphasising a point where any further effort is unproductive (end of 'the line')

Yet, I'm not sure if 'the line' really holds it's worth in gold, or sand. It's too easy to forego 'the line' as we frame it for ourselves, or others. While pausing from a cycle (sorry!) beachside this morning I saw a young boy, no more than 4 or 5 years old, drag a stick along the beach. He drew an impressive line: straight, and long. He called to his mum, "Mum, stop. Look!" He jumped from side-to-side over the line, then ran back to the start and did it all again. And again.

His line ended, yet was never-ending. Well, at least until mum got bored and needed her coffee. It was easy for him to make or profess his line in the sand. It was just as easy to step over it, and continue on his merry way.

As we come into the festive season, and the trimmings and trappings and turkeys of Christmas are bypassed for the resolutions of the New Year, what form will your line take?

      Will it be one of action, or of action stopped? 

Will it be one of drive or determination or passion?

Perhaps it will be another case of the never-ending line that fades into the distance, one defined by many and followed by many more? Will you do it because others have, or not do it because other's haven't? Will you follow this line and start again next year, and the year after? And the one after that, again?

Will your line in the sand truly mark a new beginning, or a new ending?

Or, will you - a day, a week, a minor set-back, a month, an injury later - step over your line and wander, walk or run on, back to your old path? And wonder why? 

You may not. But the running gods will.

Be wary, and toe that line!

The Running Gods...

We are blessed.

I used to think the running gods visited as people, as runners like you and me.


More accurately, that they anthrpomorphised as Steve Ovett, Steve Cram, Seb Coe, Mary Decker, Grete Waitze, Said Aouita, Steve Smith, Rob de Castella, and others. In other words, when it suited them, the running gods would take human form, and race. And run...oh so smoothly, and oh so fast.

Anthropomorphosis.  Ann-thro-po-morf-oh-sis...'tis a big word. And, long.

It means transforming into human form.

As one who leans more towards evolutionism than intelligent design, I now know better. 

As smooth, sleek and speedy elite runners are, they are not the running gods. Sure, although the, errr, 'parental interaction' that gave their genetic predisposition and 'will' to run may have been blessed by the running gods, these speedsters still needed to demonstrate the choice, courage and determination, and do the miles and repetitions, and suffer the aches and pains like the rest of us. No, great and good runners are not the running gods.

The running gods are our own. They sit in judgement and challenge our resolve, our commitment, our courage, and persistence, and consistency, our 'smarts' or 'common sense', and our application to achieving our self-confessed and self-imposed goals. They tick or check the columns that matter beside our names.

These running gods come in all shapes, sizes and forms: as injury, as fatigue, as the elements (heat, cold, wind, rain, hail, snow), as ill-health, as motivation loss, as temptation, as procrastination, as 'the battle', as the 'little voice', as the red-line, as 'the wall', as hills, as life and lifestyle, as family, as work or study, as the choices we make in humility, adversity and grace. And pace. 

These running gods want to know if we are worthy: worthy of the lofty goals we set ourselves;  worthy of the distances and times, and joy and pride of those who have run millenia before us; worthy of the true medals and podiums...self-fulfillment and achievement.

The running gods bless us with choice: the choice to run, the choice by which you and me become better people and runners.

Running can transform.

And, bless that.

The Battle...

You've had it.
I've had it.
We've all had it.

Some weeks, it's most days. Some weeks, it's absent. Sometimes, deserts us. Other times, it nags us.

No, no...it's not our partner in life, nor our mother-in-law.

It is 'the battle'. It's the internal dialogue we have while deciding between 'now' or 'later'. It's the conversation we have with ourself about putting the session/run off and getting changed and getting out the door and doing it now. It's the whisper of future guilt if we delay, and don't deliver. It's a measure of the call of the running gods, "go and run". 


The battle nestles comfortably with procrastination. For runners, procrastination is the art and science of delaying the inevitable - vigorous agitation of the body by placing one foot in front of the other, at speed, to bring pleasure, pain and pride. The battle is first-cousin to the 'little voice'.


I battled this morning. I coached. I coffee-d. I sat in my car for 20 mins. Procrastination visited. Guilt rang. I changed running shoes three times. In the end, I went. I ran.


As each of us know, each time we battle, each time we defeat the temptation of 'later', once we have our gear on and are a few minutes into our run (or jog) we wonder what all the fuss was about.


The battle is important. It's important you deal with it there and then. Each battle you win is a tick the running gods place beside your name. Persistence and consistency are key elements to becoming a better (and faster, and wiser) runner. Each battle you win is a check for you in the persistence and consistency columns.

I have this rule. If you begin to battle; begin to consider delaying; begin to re-schedule - simply shut up, and put up. Put your gear on. Get out there. And run. Then.

The battle then is done, and won.
And you did it.