I'm making my comeback to ultra running. Any day now. Slowly. A half-kilometre at a time. I reckon I should be ready around 2030. Positive thinking. That's the spirit!
|Photo by my dad.|
I skipped barefoot running today in favour of my orthopaedic insoles, just to see how my tendon would react. Tendon happy. Knee happy. Shaman happy. And I was happy partly because it didn't hurt at all during the 3,5 km that I ran, partly because I was running on the 8-km path in Skatås. It was like reuniting with an old friend, one that I hadn't seen in years. Skatås, the Mecca of exercise-minded Gothenburgians, a smorgasbord of forest-laced paths from 2,5 km to 18 km long, has been the background for many a fun long run with my running buddies. Coincidentally, the first kilometre or so of the 8-km path was also the stage for the Ultra Intervals last November, where I and 6 friends from the group braved the darkness, cold and boredom to run 10 km once every three hours until we reached 80 km.
Ah, bitter-sweet memories. To be at a place where so many wonderful kilometres were logged and precious friendships were forged, in sun and in rain, in mud and in snow. A place that almost seduced me, like the mythical Sirens, to abandon my scheduled 18 minutes of running and keep going, round and round the Delsjö lake until my legs fell off. The place I could pitch a tent and spend the rest of my days exercising in, if I didn't have such inconsequential little needs like money and a roof over my head.