The word ‘jog’ conjures up the image of someone plodding along with a more upward than forward motion and getting nowhere fast! I therefore always like to think of myself as a runner, even though over the last couple of years, since the arrival of my daughter, my marathons and long runs have declined to two or three short runs a week – if, I can summon up the energy.
Running for me is important because it’s when I’m aching, sweating and panting that those elusive endorphins are flushed from their hiding place and start buzzing aroud my head. As if by magic, ideas and solutions start coming thick and fast. At the end of even a moderate 3 miler, I need to grab pen and paper so as not to let all my thoughts escape.
This morning I went for a slow run. I’m on holiday in Georgia US, and the weather even early in the morning is hot and humid. I ran a couple of loops round a park and back to where I was staying. 3 miles and 25 minutes later, looking like I’d just plunged into the pool – dripping sweat everywhere, I literally dived into the pool and swam a couple of lengths in the very slow breast-stroke, I’d learnt as a child. I felt so alive yet half-dead at the same time – and with a great big smile on my face I jumped from the pool in search of pen and paper.