The Hash are fond of describing themselves as drinkers with a running problem. The Monday Hash here have a very severe running problem, even by comparison with other Hashes, in that for half the year they meet again on Wednesdays for (gasp) speed training. They also like winning things, like the local Chariots of Fire relay, and putting up a good show at such local events as the Grunty Fen Half Marathon.
The Wednesday meeting tends to be a proper gut wrenching workout. I get there when I can (or, at least, when I cannot find an excuse). There is a little warm up run, perhaps a couple of times around Jesus Green, and then technical exercises - excellent diagnostic tests of where Improvement could (and should) be made. This appetiser is followed by the piece de resistance of the evening - timed intervals, handicap runs, a pleasing variety of entertainment from week to week, the common theme of which is to leave one bent over, hands on knees and gasping. And then, for pudding, as it were, core stability exercises, under the kindly eye of the senior sadist.
To be fair, he does not require us to do anything he can't do, and my shoulders are not the only ones trembling with effort to hold a plank as the seconds crawl past (stopping, no doubt, to admire a midge, or hold a leisurely conversation with a mosquito). I generally cheat and give up early, or decide that a plank from knee to shoulder is good enough. Then, when planks are deemed done, there is an assortment of tum trials, such as lying on one's back, legs in air and boxing one's boots. It is almost a relief when the final session of planking is called, signalling the approaching end of dessert. A beer helps to wash down so heavy a meal.
Core training is the stuff that reaches the bits mere running cannot reach. Like oil on a bicycle chain, it ensures that energy spent all converts to forward motion. No effort is wasted in wobbling.
Same as those who have not got PD, I can not afford to waste any energy in a run. I do not enjoy planks or boxing my toes, even without midges nibbling my ears, but I (and those who share my running problem) happily indulge in this Wednesday treat. For me however there is an extra dimension to the exercise, a core component of running that my fellows may not be aware of, yet equally essential to the game.
It is the one time when I run with a group, the distance between me and the pack providing a distressing measure of my limitations. For those whose speediest pace might be 12 minute miling, joining in a group of runners is a sobering experience. The unseen "why bother" devils and the "you could just run on your own and spare yourself the humiliation of being so very far behind the field" evil spirits are there in force, standing by the wayside, jeering me on. Face them. Stare back. Yes, I am slow, and will get slower. So What. It is important to practice running past them, solid of purpose, accepting that things are not likely to get better, are likely to get worse, but for today and tomorrow, the race goes on.
The glory of it is, of course, that I have not got to face these imps alone. Although my fellow drinkers may be unaware, they are a powerful force against would be defeatists. Just being included in the game does it, and the grins are there for extras.
Running heros help here too. I am thinking of one, then a thirteen year old girl, a survivor of a brain tumour and two years of every hideous form of cancer treatment in the book, in an epic and never to be forgotten race, the hundred metre dash at her school sports day. She abandoned her customary stick and lined up with her classmates, and the gun went off. After ten seconds, her competitors were half the field ahead of her. I saw her falter for the least fraction of a second, and then head up carry on, to finish perhaps a minute after her peers.
That's one in the teeth for the "why bother" imps. Home, shower, log my efforts, it feels good. For another week, the devils faced, PD put in its place, the extra glow of satisfaction of having defeated the enemies within. Do the planks. Stand tall, waste no effort in wobbling, not in running, not in life. For those who wobble naturally, stability in the mental core will serve where muscles fail.
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