The unsung hero

It surprises no one who's read this blog longer than a couple of months that my favourite kind of run is the long run. Spending the day putting kilometre after kilometre behind me while I make my way through new places, seeing new areas and maybe stopping for a quick snack at a bakery I just discovered is so fun and satisfying. So natural. Born to run, indeed.

But distance runs are quickly growing on me. Other sessions bring expectations with them: the interval session means you need to run at a certain speed, the long run means you need to collect a certain amount of kilometres. But the humble distance run is unpretentious. You just find a pace you're comfortable with and run as far as you feel like. Maybe 2 kilometres, maybe 10.

Yesterday my distance run ended up being 16,5 km long. No hurry, no pressure, just following my body's lead like a dancer in her partner's arms, caught up in the moment, to the notes of a salsa song. A calf muscle that felt sore before the run seemed to like the careful pace that the others in AIK set, especially since the near-zero temperature had turned snow into slush and ice at places.

With the first run of the year behind me, I am looking ahead. And looking forward to starting my training programme for Lapland Ultra in two weeks.