The other day when James got home from work he asked how my run went (he can always tell if I’ve been for a run from the amount of mud I traipse through the foyer en route to the shower) ..
I told him that my run was great and how I’d been out to Piha to check out a new trail, which turned out to be a really nice run. There were no real hills to contend with AND no mud – which for someone who runs in the Waitakere Ranges is a novelty.
He then asked .. “So are you better yet?” I just kind of stared blankly so he re-iterated .. “At trail running, are you better at it yet?”
In fairness I didn’t know what to say so I went with ..
“Ummm .. I dunno …?”
He seemed slightly taken aback that I wouldn’t know these things. Perhaps it’s a boy thing? To be all statistical and such (and care), however my gut feeling is that it’s probably more of a James thing. I’m usually pretty chuffed that I can still do whatever shit takes my fancy (even if it’s slowly), whereas James gets all sad that he can’t match his younger self.
He then softened his blow with “Oh well, it’s not like you are racing or anything … “
Which is true, I’m not racing – in fact I’m very rarely with anyone when I hit the trails (which I was sure to highlight during our conversation as he always pikes out on me) which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds. I don’t have to worry about trying to keep up with anyone (or slowing people down) and I can stop to take as many photos as I want, which in itself should go to prove that I’m not out to beat any land speed records. I can’t picture real “adventure runners” stopping to take photos. 😉
Obviously there are times where I’d like to have another person with me (like when my wet ponytail hits my hydration pack and frightens me, or when I’m sliding down a steep cliff) but otherwise I’m pretty happy adventuring solo. I guess that in itself is a sign of progress – when you trust yourself enough to venture further afield and off the so called beaten tracks ..
Till next time