As you expect, the first km feels awful…tired, dead and heavy. Urgh!!! But you haven't gone far enough for it to 'count' as a session, so you keep going. As you do something happens. Whether it was stopping at the traffic lights to cross, or passing over some imaginary line, or even that you've just woken up, you're not sure what it is. But things start feeling better.
Your stiff joints loosen up. Your breathing levels out. Your stride finds a groove. Your rhythm becomes smoother. Things just seem to click into gear and your body warms up. Your running actually starts feeling good, much to your surprise, and you start thinking about doing a proper session of fartlek, or tempo, or intervals…there's a range of options.
As you run on you find yourself losing track of how long you've run for, or how fast you're going, until you realise how hard you are breathing - this is equating to a good, hard session, and it feels effortless. Why don't race days feel like this? You go on further, relishing your fitness and endurance to be able to do so, taking all the little side tracks you usually only selectively go down. It's surreal to be feeling so good.
Eventually you look at your watch with surprise to see how long and how swiftly you've run, not to mention how much you're sweating. You could continue on forever, but decide to head home, still skipping over the ground albeit with some fatigue creeping into your legs…the adrenalin is keeping you going.
Arriving back at your front gate and you come to stop, euphoric about how good the run was and how surprising it was considering the way it started. These are the times you love being a runner. It was just one of those days.
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