I missed parkrun today, Saturday. I lounged about instead, got up late. Very late, in fact. You see, I've listened to my friend Paul Francis, and to his disappointment.
I enjoy being read - it's one of the reasons I write, and I particularly enjoy being read by an attentive and thorough reader, and those of you who know Paul will know him to be among the most assiduous of readers. These blog posts are a call into the space between me and you, a wish for connectedness - and so when Paul responded to my last post (I Personal Best) by writing to me privately by email (he is also considerate) I listened carefully.
He spoke convincingly about how my obsession with a particular run time was out of kilter with the spirit of why I run which is, he said, nothing to do with my concentration on that arbitrary number of running the 5K of parkrun in under 30 minutes.
Paul, you're right. I run parkrun because it has made the rest of my life better. I'm fitter, more confident in my body, linked into running communities of friendship and mutuality. And last week, after some blood tests, I also found out that running has stabilised my blood sugar levels without me having to give up lemon almond cake and Garibaldi biscuits. My test results showed I'm now post-pre-diabetic - not close to diabetic at all, in fact.
So, since being listened to by Paul and listening to him in turn, I've ditched my latest target (to reach 150 parkruns by my 60th birthday), and this morning I shooed away the target-driven voice, which has been nibbling at my ankles since I thought the unnecessary goal up.
I'm wondering if Paul will write to me again, about this post, to point out my used of a mixed metaphor. I hope so. It'll prove he's still listening.
