My mind is unsettled and the quality of my running ebbs and flows. Racing ambitions float around my head changing in size and shape as they bounce around. Alternating between delusional optimism and black pessimism, it gets hard to tell up from down. There are days when I believe I can see clearly what I’d like to do and then there are others when I know for sure that it’s all a ball of smoke.
This has been going on for a couple of years without any real sign of me getting a grip. The occasional good race and quite a lot of limping provide very little blogging material.
Despite the changing psychological weather, I’ve made it out the door to run more often than I’ve stayed on the couch and have been thankful for that fact. I’m certainly counting this as a good thing. Even though the conditions change from day to day, longer term trends can become apparent. Of late, I’ve been training well and moaning less. My friends are counting this as a good thing.
As a result of less limping and more running, ambition is gaining the upper hand and I’ve been telling anyone careless enough to ask that I’ll run another ultra in the summer.
Of course the one that fascinates me the most is the Connemara 100. Having been around that track four times I’m drawn to the event like a moth to a flame.
If I don’t hit another injury, if I can keep building mileage, if my wife doesn’t leave me, if I can find more gym time, if…..
I’d love to be there in August.