Running

Moving the feet in a paced alternating manner on a circular path while sweating like a porcupine never made sense to me. Why fight to grasp for air, wear your fragile body down, and end up exactly where you started after all that Herculean effort?

However, a few years back, at the onset of my forties, I decided to take on running - against my nature and deeply rooted instincts. In the wild village I live, a 10k race was about to happen in a few months, and I wanted to participate.

So I had trained like a wild donkey, ran in the damn competition, and, unsurprisingly, didn't win. A year later, I decided to have another go. I exercised like a drunken boar, ran again, and was a little faster, but ultimately didn't win. I wasn't "even" in the top 50%.

It turns out that running fast is hard. Though, as a consolation prize, I ended up on the cover of the village magazine, like a big, bright shining star.

3.5 years, 420 runs and 3800km later, I'd like to share my thoughts, in random order, on this whole running business.

Old dudes are fast

On my first 10k race, I was chasing a 50-something beer-bellied gentleman, visibly overweight. It proved impossible to catch up with him. He was like a tank on steroids.

A year later, some other papa John's, approaching sexagenarian territory, was warming up for another 10k race. It looked like tube man was stretching his legs. He ended up in the top 10.

I know younger runners are generally faster, but the thought that senile runners can overtake untrained young puppies gives me hope to beat Roy Englert world record one day.

Music makes the feet go round

Running without music is like farting in a cathedral - it feels wrong.

The best music can pump my adrenaline levels up to heavenly skies and make me glide. I forget I am running, and the music teleports my weary body into the manly athlete stratosphere.

The worst music kicks me hard in the groins and makes me question my will to trudge forward. Try listening to Celine Dion's sentimental whining while on the jog, and your legs will drop off from your body and stay motionless, like a rabbit on a runway.

Over the years, I've tried different genres and discovered that I enjoy the best mix of techno/clubhouse beats intertwined with indie. Strong beats give springs to the legs, and less singing is better unless you sing "Chadh di jawani teri ankh mastani", which is apparently about youth and charming eyes, both things good for any runner.

Describing music is like describing colours in braille, so here's my constantly tweaked Spotify training list.

I've also noticed that slower beats breed slower runs, so for a relaxing trot (if there is such a thing), I run to pseudo-meditational playlists:

Moreover, I've found melancholic music too depressing, heavy-metal jam too aggressive and classical music too peaceful for an effective run. I haven't tried blues or jazz yet, as they seem more suitable for a Cheese Rolling, or Extreme Ironing.

When I run long distances, I like to listen to all the compilations of the 80s pop and rock. It brings out the nostalgia and makes me forget for a second that my heart desperately tries to escape the pounding chest, and my legs are running out of muscles.

Falls

Inevitably, when running so many times, entangled feet will make mistakes once in a while. That's how I found myself flying towards the ground when the barbaric overgrown blackberry branch stopped my momentum mid-air.

There is little time to think about how to react in such a predicament. Autopilot took control, which meant my arms moved forward to protect the head.

I got away with slightly bruised arms and chin. It took some time to overcome a feeling of shock, but then I continued the run, questioning the "sport is good for you" fake news mantra.

I fell about three times in three years, which didn't invoke enough trauma to stop my sadistic hobby for good. I received a painful lesson when running after dark, as I overlooked some protruding curb in a dark alley. I've also discovered that trees have roots crossing paths; their sole purpose is to get you.

Mindfulness

As a beginner mindfulness-er, still enthusiastic about cloudy skies moving behind the blue nirvana, I decided to do a mindful run. Unfortunately, it turned out to be rock-hard, bordering on impossible.

I focused on the breath, but the lung locomotive was too noisy. So I refocused towards my feet, leaving and returning to the ground, which was a tad better. I watched the trees and birds passing by.

The visualisation I liked was pretending I was on the scooter, moving effortlessly forward, enjoying the surrounding scenery like a tourist. Eventually, though, my mind always had something revolutionary to say, and my willpower of being just the observer quickly waned.

Ultimately, I can claim limited success; the whole 'be mindful during run' felt like making an opera in the forge or crocheting underwater.

Runners high

I am yet to experience this anecdotal ephemeral phenomenon (AEP) called runner's high.

A few times a year, out of the blue, I have the feeling that I am the fastest man in the world, and my A-Train legs are unstoppable. Still, after a few miles, the fallacy of invincibility subsides, and I am back to my feeble self.

Ups and downs

The human body is mysterious and often unpredictable.

At the beginning of one spring, out of the blue, I started running much faster. I was breaking all my records, doing half-marathons almost every week. And then, a few months later, it was all gone; I had no strength, no energy and no will to run.

At first, I thought I had overtrained, but this happened to me a few more times, even when I wasn't pushing myself. I listened to my body, giving it proper rest and sustenance, and it gave me a middle finger.

Energy. It comes, and it goes. I have no idea why. Odin turns the body on, Frigg shuts it down, and I accept their whims.

En boca cerrada, no entran moscas

Flies are quite a nuisance. I live around the lakes, where they swarm jauntily in happy black puffs.

I prefer breathing in and out through the mouth, but those curious devils consider it an invitation to fly in, stick into the back of my throat, and die. So, to avoid being a moving cemetery, I breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. But then, they stick to my sweaty forehead and neck, forming a spotty beard, and of course, die.

Strava

I have mixed feelings about the Strava app.

On one hand (or leg), it calculates some sexy statistics like personal records (I do not particularly appreciate calling them PRs) or total distances covered over the years. But, on the other hand, it is a constant stream of distractions.

I have the same issue with Facebook; I scroll mindlessly for a couple of minutes and always feel worse than before I started. I am always coming back to the same conclusion that I just don't care enough. I don't care where people ran, walked or biked. I am happy that people are taking care of themselves, but I am uninterested in their whereabouts, times, calories, steps or elevations.

Sharing my runs often feels weird, as there is nothing to brag about most of the time. Sometimes I even felt sad when my run was particularly slow, and the others flew like a rocket.

In the end, I've decided to skim through Strava fodder once in a couple of weeks and quickly move on to better things.

Records

For my first 10k race, my goal was simple - finish it, no matter the time. "Don't stop, and you will be a winner", I said to myself, patting my back and twisting my arm during the patting. Then I got ambitious.

A long time ago, when I had hair like a lion, I had a teacher who told me some wise words. "Too much ambition will make you unhappy. Too little ambition will make you a complacent loser".

For the following year's race, I've decided to finish 10k in less than an hour. Once I achieved that, I kept moving the goal pole - 55 minutes, 50 minutes. So I ran further - 15k, 20k, 30k.

It feels good to break a record, but it is much work. And the cheerful mood lasts only a few days, and then the prideful moment drifts away, and I think again about where to go next.

"If you don't move forward, you go backwards and slowly die", they say, although do I have to go in the same direction? After breaking 48 minutes, it stopped being fun, and I decided to stop taking my runs seriously. I am not a bloody athlete, and there always be somebody running faster and farther.

Realistically, I will never beat the Iron Cowboy, who did 50 Ironman in 50 days. And I will not run a 3,500 km Appalachian Trail in less than 41 days. And I am not going to run every day for the next 52 years and complete 115 marathons.

Currently, I am not "even" able to run a marathon. I run slower and slower, but I enjoy it a bit more. My favourite part is crossing the finish line with the sudden realisation that I don't have to gallop like a deranged stallion anymore.

I came full circle. I don't chase records. Getting up, running and finishing is enough.

Health

There is a saying in Poland that "Sport is health". However, that is not precisely the truth. During the communist era, you could go to a shop called "kiosk of movement" and buy cigarettes branded "Sport".

I cannot with any confidence claim that running improved my health. When I started running, I also made all kinds of changes. I moved to a house in the village. I stopped eating meat and fish.

Recently I had a pretty intensive health checkup done, with much blood taken and never given back. Besides potassium levels slightly below normal, it didn't detect abnormalities, so I guess running didn't make my health worse.

My Garmin watch says that my VO2 is in the top 10% of my age and gender, and my fitness age is 20, but I certainly don't feel like in my twenties. My bones are making weird cracking noises, my back feels funny sometimes, and I feel tired most of the time.

The thing with running is that it quickly points out the weakest link in my body. The left knee. Once the left knee became a bit stronger, the right one decided to scream for attention. Then hips, lower back, feet, and calf all had their turns. Every part of my body shouts: "stop tormenting me". It never ends.

My average resting heart rate is 45. I know it is a badge of honour for some runners, but it feels strange when the heart has this nonchalant attitude towards beating. I would much prefer it to avoid bradycardia territory and be normal.

I don't know the parallel universe in which I spent the last four years not running. Would I be overweight, out-of-breath and miserable, or more or less the same, with slightly less muscular legs?

I've read that an hour of running per week may add seven hours to your life, but I seriously question if it is worth the effort.

Overtaking

During the casual run, I often encounter other nutters who have chosen to waste their leisure time by running. If they go in the opposite direction, I usually wave and put on a fake smile, falsely indicating that I am having a great time and wishing them the same.

But if I am to overtake the other runner, it gets a tad tricky. Should I turn around after taking over and wave? It may come across as a straight "bye-bye, you slow loser" mockery.

I don't have the slightest idea why someone is slow - he might be on his last leg of an ultra-marathon, she may be doing the slow part of her tempo run, he may have a worse day, or she may be just doing the relaxing fun run. So, who am I to judge?

I once overtook some ambitious fellow. He started chasing me. His chase made me go faster, so my overtaking didn't go to waste. It felt like I was escaping from an enraged bear. It resulted in a few kilometres of intense run. Luckily, our ways split when I turned into the other road. I beat my record that day.

I wish there were some protocol for taking over behaviour, some universal "thumbs up, keep running and don't mind me overtaking you". However, since I don't know any, I usually pass the other runner in silence and hope he/she/them do not take offence.

Training

I don't have a personal trainer. I watched YouTube videos for runners for a while, but they were either too technical, with sinews explained in a way too much detail, or too pompous, like the guy who decided to "Run casual 100k on the weekend".

To motivate me to run, I devised a little trick. If I don't feel like running, which is 99% of the time, I just put on jersey pants and running shoes without any intention of going out. After a while, it just feels out of place not to go for a jog, having all the gear on, so I reluctantly leave the house and start my daily dose of suffering.

Supposedly the best time to run is between 13:00 and 16:00, but my circadian rhythm is off a couple of hours. However, I prefer running in the evenings when the sun is not so angry anymore, and rabbits and muntjacs are hopping across the fields.

I have a little mental pre-flight checklist:

Empty your bowels and bladder (running with baggy bowel is playing with fire).
Put on suncream and sunglasses if needed.
Make sure your laces are tied well (or you get a moral dilemma - stop during the run to tie the laces or keep going).

Leszek Miller, the Polish politician, has a famous quote "You know a real man by how he finishes, not how he starts". I always start slow, like an aeroplane taxing on a runway. If I am not trying to beat any record, I run at 60-80% of my leg power most of the time.

During the run, the in-flight checklist kicks in:

Don't spit upwind.
Beware of insidious blackberries.
Listen to your body and slow down/stop if it hurts.
Always look back before making a turn (cyclist sneak attack).

For the last 1-2 km, when I smell home at the corner, I develop the full speed and take my overused legs for a maximum spin.

CrossFit

Running uses the body, and the weak body is like a wretched car with sweaty fuel spilling all over the road. I've noticed that any non-running exercise, however mild and seemingly unrelated to the jogging activity, helps. It includes walking, biking, push-ups, planks, crunches, stretching and Stanky Legg dance.

It's a rather obvious and not particularly insightful observation. Still, it strayed and emerged in my notes as something important.

Rest days

Rest days are the best part of running. I have a master's degree in resting.

My self-invented rule is that for every 10k run, I rest at least one day. At some point, I ran five days in a row, but that turned out to be a terrible idea. I was a living zombie during the day and couldn't sleep because my legs felt wooden and itchy.

Sometimes I do a resting week or two, but I try not to do it very often because it feels too lovely, and I may never go back to running again.

I used to do one big break from November to February, thinking it was too cold for a run, but then in March, I had no shape or form and had to start training from scratch.

Food

I am not too religious about body fuel, but I've tried a few things over the years. I ate bananas before the run, bread with a lot of honey, peanut butter and candy bars. Maybe the run was just the excuse to eat all that tasty crap.

One thing I can definitely recommend for the long run is the Jelly Babies. It may sound ridiculous, but eating one baby per kilometre gives an incredible energy boost.

Also, caffeinated drink during the run, like black tea with a lot of sugar, seems to do a good job of waking the running dragon. I've tried some "special" electrolyte tablets "for improved hydration and recovery", but I think it is all baloney. The tablets tasted weird and didn't do a much better job than tea or plain water. Also, the multivitamines from Tesco cost three times less and have more nutrients.

Elements

Weather can be a runner's worst enemy. Nothing kills my body and spirit more than the scorching sun. Running in the heat is like being roasted in the oven.

Nemesis number two is the wind. It always seems to blow in the opposite direction of my run, slowing me down. The chilly breeze is particularly insidious, getting through the body like a villain Xray. One time I was really close to hypothermia. After running through the fields around my village, I almost felt my body shutting down.

Running in the rain fine, the fake English rain, feigned drizzle, the parody of the storm. It's even quite refreshing.

I am still undecided about running in the winter. The first few kilometres are tough, but with warmer clothes and gloves, it is doable. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of wearing light socks a few times, and my toes got really numb and painful with tiny frostbite. Also, fast breathing gets really uncomfortable with temperatures below zero, and the frozen puddles become nemesis number three.

Gear

I know I shouldn't judge after an individual experience, that's not how the statistics work, but Fitbit sucks. First, I had Fitbit Charge 2, which died after a year. Then Fitbit Charge 3 failed after 2 years, a few days after its warranty had expired.

Fitbit was ok at first, but then it started behaving like a spoiled brat i.e.

Refused to connect to the phone; had to turn the Bluetooth off and on again.
Stopped tracing the run after a few minutes; this was tremendously annoying when I ran a half-marathon.
Didn't track the run properly; my usual 10k loop was often calculated as 8k or 9k.
I couldn't see the screen in the sun.

I complained about those things on the Fitbit forum, but no one cared enough to even respond. I stopped trusting the watch to track anything properly, so I used both Fitbit and Strava recording.

The bar to "be better than Fitbit" was set really, really low. So, I moved to Garmin Forerunner 245, and it is ok. I trust the Garmin watch enough to not use Strava recording unless I participate in an official competition.

The screen is readable in bright light. There are excellent run statistics, and I don't have to pay extra for any of them. The sleep tracking is a bit wobbly and always too generous, but that's fine.

I don't have a shoe fetish, and I don't think there is that much difference between good and best shoes. There is a tremendous difference between a cheap shoe and the good one, but this is quickly communicated by sore knees and blistered feet. For an average runner Joe, the slightly better shoes will not give much of the boost. I noticed the new shoes have a nice placebo effect, they feel faster for the first week, and I run more quickly. After the first mile, though, I forget about the shoes and switch focus to 'Why am I torturing myself with this' .

Long runs

Long runs are boring. After 10k, my legs are getting more wooden with each step. Music becomes an annoyance. I am getting hungry and start thinking about food. My knees begin to jiggle. The feet are aching. I am questioning my will to go on.

Movies

Some running movies get me pumped up when I am down about the whole "move your legs fast" idea.

Below is a list of some incredibly motivational and inspiring ones:

Future

I am not sure how much longer I will endure. It gets harder and harder to make myself leave the house for a run. I am getting slower and constantly thinking about switching to a new hobby.

I ran all possible permutations of paths and roads around my village and its lakes and lost my running mojo. I love hiking, and I would gladly move to the Rocky Mountains, hike every day and never run again.

I still like doing a little run in a new place, on holiday, or running with a friend or family member. But the Zen is not there.

A few years back, I thought, "What if I did an Ironman?". Now this question invokes the same reaction as "What if I get a colonoscopy?". I am not saying no to any of those things, but not really looking forward to the experience.