Back To The Roots

I haven’t been running for a long time. Not since I got roped into doing the ‘Tough Mudder’ and sprained my ankle…. Again!

I’d done that a lot over the years, and not usually because of running, I was a relatively late starter with that. No, I was just clumsy and of course there was the family genes to blame. As my brother says “we are blessed with glass ankles”.

I started out like a lot of people do I suppose, running on the treadmill in the gym. To get rid of the gut, first and foremost, but then I started to enjoy it. However I soon started to get a bit tired of the monotony of running towards the wall in front of me and ventured out onto the trails.

At the time I lived in the North West of England and after looking through some books of local walking trails that mum had given to me and my then girlfriend (now my wife), to encourage us to get out and about. I settled on one that wasn’t too far from where I lived and got to it.

Cocky and confident after a couple of years on the treadmill I hit the trail and the cockiness soon drained away to leave me panting up the tarmac road that ran through the forest, hands on knees, walking.

I remember that day vividly and a lot of others that followed it on that same trail. It was a circular route that brought me back to the car park, all uphill for the first mile then it flattened out giving an awesome view of the forest that I had just come through with the reservoir down below.

For some reason I always think of that trail in the autumn, probably because it’s my favorite time of year to run.

Yes you have the usual stuff people go on about such as the color of the leaves, and how beautiful it is, which is true, but it’s the energy of the place, especially in autumn that got me going back. Being out amongst the trees, feeling the wind when you got high up onto the hill and the commanding views you were rewarded with on reaching the top.

Sucking in the fresh air after a week of working in the city is something once felt the body yearns for again and again and that’s what has got me back to running.

It’s been 5 years since I lived in North West England and where I live now is a lot different. There are no hills in London and working in central London that yearning has been getting stronger, tapping me on the shoulder and beckoning me back to the trails. And that’s where I am, back on the trails, back to the roots. It’s not been plain sailing the cockiness was back again and inevitably soon diminished again but I’ll get into that next time.