I never considered myself a sportsman. If anything, a couch potato would describe my activities in one word. As a kid, whenever we planned to play football in school or in the neighbourhood, I was never chosen as a first to any of the playing teams, more often I was at the back end. I just could not understand what is so exciting in running with the ball. Why should I spend time memorising names of football players, names of the teams, watch the tournaments or go to the events. When I once decided to give a try in a city 5k run, I vividly remember giving up half way through, sitting on the stairs of the closest shop, and hoping that when I finally spit out my lungs a horrible pain will stop. I almost puked from exhaustion. Not so promising start.

Off coarse I did some excising here and there, but these were a seasonal events, after watching a movie or inspiring video clip and as fast as it ignited the fire in me, it extinguished it at the same speed.

What I did like was walking. Long distances, with music in my ears – that was my way to escape and recover from whatever was bothering me at the time. I also liked cycling (not as an exercise), because it allowed my explore new places, where walking would normally be not possible (covering tens of kilometres, or where only way was a road for cars). Cycling has its own drawbacks, such as dependency from weather. I will make another post about my bike and what it means to me, but for now I will stop here.

I think the biggest mind shift happened when I moved to Portsmouth (UK) in my mid-twenties. I walked very often at the Southsea seafront and during those walks I have passed tens, if not hundreds of runners. Men & women, young & old, fit & beginners, fast & slow, in the mornings and evenings. I got very used to this picture and whenever I thought of this part of the city, jogging was inseparable part of it. Slowly I started to imagine myself on the track, feeling light wind on my face and setting Sun on the horizon. It was a beautiful dream, so much so, that I decided to start training. At the beginning it was particularly hard, because I did not know anyone who exercise from my closest workmates and as I was living in the neighbourhood without any parks nearby (North End), I was forced to run around the blocks. As months went by I improved my style, strengthen my muscles and lungs and expanded the distance. There were also many memorable runs, in the rain, in the early mornings or in the middle of the night. Each time I came back home, I had this feeling of fulfilment and satisfaction of achieving another goal. Slowly running became my an integral part of my life.

I guess, like with everything that we do, at some point we start to feel a need to add some spice to the mix. Joining like minded clubs, taking part in a competitions, setting up a higher goals – whatever it is, we want to level up in whatever we do. To me it had to be taking part in a marathon. I have seen so many people doing it, and that encouraged me to give it a try – if they can do it, I should be able to. Since my last Camino, I also miss a big challenge, something that non of people I know has done, something that will cost me a lot of effort and sacrifice to achieve, something which, by doing it, will help me become a better version of myself and something I can be proud of. In the canteen at work I found a book that was full of great advice about physical and mental preparation, about training and diet and anything else that could help on my way to, through and post marathon. Following its advice I have managed to reach my peak performance at 24km in about 4 months, and then I gave up. We reached the wet season in UK, and 2.5h runs became a nightmare in the cold rain, day after day. I just had enough and I did not want to permanently embed those negative feelings into my runs. I made a break for almost 3 months, and then I started again, from scratch. It is so weird that such a short time can deplete all strength from the muscles. I literally had to start from 1 mile runs and gradually, week after week, extend the distance.

I don’t mind starting again. I have experience of running long runs, and this is my motivation – I know I can get there and it will be easier with the knowledge and technique I have acquired during my previous months of training. But the goal itself is not the only reason why I run. I can see how my body is physically changing: becomes stronger, faster and leaner and my moves are more precise. It is less prone to seasonal illnesses. I am much calmer, less stressed, my heart rate is steadier and I sleep better. I also noticed during my long run training’s last year that I was always in a very good mood. In contrast, when I stopped for few months during winter time, I was more often lost in negative thoughts and my confidence dropped significantly. The change was so dramatic and visible, that I came to a conclusion that regardless of how long will it take for me to achieve my marathon goal and even after that, I will try to never stop runs. All benefits that my body is getting out of it, and how I feel mentally are so worth the effort. Being outside on the fresh air, feeling warmth of the sun and being on the move for hours per day, eating consciously better, consistently achieving little ‘goals’ after each day of training, and because of that, getting a positive rewards from the body (endorphins) and seeing the progress from week to week – these are other, equally important side effects of this simple and cheap sport – in fact the only thing that is required is pair of shoes – but this is a topic for another day.

At the end I would like to share a video from a well known youtuber @CaseyNeistat on his thoughts about running. Very well put together.