This weekend I was at a friend’s wedding and didn’t take my running shoes with me. Instead I packed my dancing shoes and, while I probably clocked up a fair few miles on the dancefloor, running wasn’t on the agenda. So last night, feeling pretty bad that I’d only managed 4 miles on Sunday evening, I decided to make the most of the drop in temperature and run home from work.

My run home from work isn’t the most scenic of routes and there’s quite a few obstacles to dodge in cars, people and bikes – all of which stand a good chance of running into me while I’m on the pavement. It started out pretty much as expected, my legs were a bit tired from the day before but I assured myself that after two or three miles they’d loosen up and I’d be fine. They did, but I wasn’t. I felt a bit fatigued and entered into negotiations with myself about when I could stop that went something like this.

“If I just make it to 7 miles I can get the bus.”
“Or I could get on the tube in half a mile.”
“The tube will be hot.”
“So will the bus.”
“So will running.”
“Mind that cyclist.”
“If I get the tube, I’ll have to get the bus as well because the tube doesn’t go all the way home.”
“I could get the tube and then run from there.”
“Go to 7 miles then get the bus.”
“If I’m doing 7 I may as well do 9.”
“Just keep running ad see how you feel when you get there.”
“Mind that car.”

I did make it all the way home in the end but the run reminded me of the commonly cited fact about running. It’s 10% in the legs and 90% in the mind. My body was fit enough, strong enough and fueled enough to make the journey home on foot. If I’d have given up it would have been entirely because my mind wasn’t strong enough – or that it was too stong for me depending on which way you look at it.

It’s not just big races like the marathon when this internal battle between body and mind plays out but on every single run you’ll do in training. Sometimes you’ll get into a groove and enjoy a run – but there’s a point, whether it’s just for a minute or for the whole run, when your mind is willing you to stop. I’ve come to realise this over the past two years and try to tell myself about all those times when I wanted to stop but didn’t and continued for another 5 miles. Just like I know that the first couple of miles of a run can hurt like hell but that it can subside if I stick with it – I know that my internal voice can subside after a couple of miles too. Although, being a  Lazy Girl, the voice that tells me to stop can shout quite loud. But with all that traffic about, it can sometimes be difficult to hear it.