Inspiration

One of my biggest challenges when my exercise routine turns into "real" training, is that I constantly feel rushed and even overwhelmed. Rushed to choose dinner, rushed to get to work, rushed to get home, rushed to make decisions, and somehow everybody else seems just a tad slower than normal. The last few weeks also have not been the best traffic weeks either with a few critical traffic lights not working resulting in total havoc in Randburg. Everybody in Randpark Ridge knows that if the Rhema traffic lights (Hans Schoeman & Ostrich or Rabie) are out you travel an extra hour that day. Some days though, it all just clicks and none of the above mentioned stuff,matters. A day when one has one of those WOW runs. Tuesday's run was a quick-fire 5km hill training run, and I felt like a runner. It does not matter that I am not an athlete, it doesn't matter that I am not fast, it FEELS great. Maybe it was the Monday rest day, but man it is inspirational! Last week Wednesday, we planned a 10km run which we had to cut short as suddenly the heavens just opened. We even had a bit of hail. Never mind that were drenched to the skin. The last 2-3 km were fabulous - invigorating - inspiring! It felt real, it felt like Africa.
So on those days, when it is a tough grind to train and my legs feel like lead, I think about the moments that inspire me rather than the mechanics of getting fit.

And if all else fails, I stand in front of my fridge (not opening the door) and read the following to remind me of those moments:

I like to feel the squish of sand underfoot.
To feel the dawn wind.
To hear the birds.
To learn my strengths and weaknesses.
To be out there.
To switch off.
To go to another place.
To smell that summer has arrived.
To clear my mind.
To see the wood for the trees.
To stand outside myself for a bit.
To do something simple, dull and repetitive.
To give problems some perspective.
To enjoy the freedom.
To hear the quiet.
To feel tired and worn out.
To beat that part of me that wants to stop.
To feel that feeling I get afterwards.
Don't call me a runner.

I just like to run.

- Anon

I've had this poem on my fridge a few years. I love it and I read it often.
(and despite quite an exhaustive Google search I've never been able to find any reference to the author)