Sometimes life teaches you valuable lessons, particularly when it comes to taking things for granted. One thing that you should never take for granted is your health. Over the last three or so years, I've got back in to running and generally looking after myself a lot better than I did for, say, pretty much the whole of my thirties.
Sitting down after another long day, no more than two days ago, I was bragging to my wife that since running again, my health had been great. Not a single day off work, no injuries or other illness. I'd say I was actually quite smug about it.
Enter the hand of fate. I wake up today for my scheduled early morning run, but things don't work out as I hoped. Within a few minutes of waking up I was spewing like
Mr Creosote, and generally evacuating the entire contents of my digestive tract. I felt dreadful. No run today, or tomorrow for that matter. I'll probably not meet my self-imposed 100 miles per month too, for this month at least.
I'll recover, for sure. But I've been given a timely reminder that you should treat every run as special, even if it wasn't a particularly good one. Targets are good, but in striving to reach those targets you should not fail to simply enjoy the moment. You just don't know what tomorrow will bring.
This bloke trying to work it all out.
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