Creature of habit

There is something unfamiliar about running a long run on a Sunday. I know it is the norm for a lot of people, but it turns my well-tuned sense of order and routine into chaos. Even during the past winter, when I was injured, Saturdays were my long run days in my mind. Although long runs when you're injured sometimes mean 6-7 km.

It's amazing how easily one falls back into old habits. I tried doing my long runs on my free Wednesdays, in order to spend more quality time with J on the weekends. It didn't last long. I soon found myself trying to convince J to increase his distance, so that we can spend this quality time running together.

How can I resist the call of the open road?

So, this weekend, my ordinary schedule went upside down. The long run is on a Sunday. Shock, horror, won't somebody think of the children? I am joining 200 other runners for a 21 km training session through the city centre, in the still-quiet streets of an early Sunday morning. I doubt that running on a Sunday instead of a Saturday will have any impact on my performance tomorrow, but what it does today is that it gives me twitchy feet.

I, like any other human being, am a creature of habit and need my Saturday run. Otherwise terrible things might happen. I can see it now: my feet might sprout roots and attach themselves firmly to the ground. My leg muscles might atrophy, wither and die. My weight might suddenly shoot up to 400 kg, making it dangerous to my health to run. My brain cells might commit collective suicide from the lack of any running stimulus. Or – what's worse – I might find myself melting into the sofa, watching the Shopping Channel and eating ice-cream straight out of the container.

Now, we wouldn't want that, would we?

It remains to be seen if today's climbing session will do anything to help fight this serious OCD condition, or if I'll have to go for a short run in my VFFs afterwards.