Glasses

Glasses wearers get a rough deal. Every time I walk into the warmth of a pub in winter from the bitter cold outside it's like a recreation of the scene in An American Werewolf In London where everyone turns around in surprise to see two Americans walking into the Yorkshire pub (for local people!), only this time thinking what a prat I look with steamed up lenses. I've tried temporarily taking them off until they've adjusted to the new temperature and formed tiny circular look-outs but that doesn't work either. Blind as a bat I find myself having to choose between either ignoring what could be friendly smiles from regulars that I might well know, or smiling inanely at everyone in the hope I haven't offended anyone.

Being short-sighted I'm amazed at the number of people over the years to whom I've had to explain that it doesn't mean I can see perfectly up to a point before a sudden deterioration. It is in fact fairly similar to (my ability at) running - all's fine for a very short distance before a gradual worsening that ultimately leads to a blur. I don't run a total of 3.5 miles because that's as far as my ability stretches but because that's the point at which my tolerance has finally ebbed away, having started to worsen not far from my front door.

I've still been religiously following the beginners training schedule but last week got to the point at which I'd normally turn round and realised I still felt good (compared to usual, not compared to being sat on the sofa) so carried on a bit further. "I can manage 4 miles!" I thought, then getting to the 2 mile mark at which point I should have turned round only to tell myself "Sod 4 miles, I can make it round this long circuit I hoped to do one day!"

It all seems so predictable now, but suffice to say a mile on from my first moment of inspiration I was in considerably more pain only now even further from home. All of a sudden running a first stint of 2.5 miles had gone from impressive to a dawning realisation that I still had that far left to run home. "I wonder if Emma would be happy to come and pick me up?"

That's the thing about an exercise/sport/recurring hell that is so individual, so completely dependant on you. You need a bit of intuition, of getting to know your body and your limitations. I'm not advocating hippy love and exploring yourself but of getting a better understanding of yourself. Much like my Mum who has somehow over the years come to know which foods "don't agree with her". Nor it seems do some shopkeepers given that one of them called the Police in to resolve a complaint she had last week.....

Having somehow survived the rest of that run I'm then left with the dilemna. Do I go back to the old distances on the schedule or, having shown I can do it once, should I do it again? Don't want to look like a southern jessie after all.

So on the face of it I've had a really good week. Having first added 1.5 miles to my previous best I then reluctantly did the same run again but in a better time before yesterday running a bit further to get me over the 5 mile barrier.

There is a reason for this seemingly sudden improvement. It's not come from any exercising I've done or steroid abuse (now there's a thought for a future blog) but because when I first had those ambitious thoughts my 'id' took over. I won't pretend to know any more about psychology than what I pick up watching Frasier but quite simply your 'id' is the part of your psyche that is most instinctive and impulsive. The bit that takes over when you wave your balls around. That makes you choose a 7 iron because 5 years ago you a hit a 7 iron 200 yards and damn it that means you're macho enough to do it again.

I suspect if you look it up in the dictionary id will be defined as an abbreviation, meaning idiotic. Because that's the psyche of someone who runs further than they really ought but who hasn't yet realised how much more pain is involved when they still have to run 2.5 times further.

MM

P.S. A couple of weeks I got challenged to fit a chosen made-up word into my blog in return for sharing my blog on their facebook / twitter status. I hopefully managed to do it without you all noticing but just to say I thought it was a great idea. If any of you have any requests (ignoring the father-in-law's repeated requests for me to "fuck off") then please let me know. All I ask in return is that you help me increase my loyal fanbase!