Let's Talk About...

… fitness. More specifically, running. Yep, let’s talk about running, mainly mid-life-crisis-driven-weekend-runner (and sometimes during the week, too). I realised this was an epidemic when at my former school a fifty-something colleague told me: “You know what I really enjoy about picking up exercise again? That I get to buy and wear all this fantastic gear!”

And what gear! There’s the hundred-quid Garmin watch that measures heart rate, calories and movement.  The base layers that promise “to manage your moisture” (which sounds like a line from a porn film). The Adidas/Nike Run Bottle Belt. The list goes on.

Let’s talk about when “jogging” became “running”. A change so subtle that I never noticed it. One minute I was talking about “jogging” back in uni more than twenty years ago, the next minute I was discussing the miles I had “run”.

Counting the miles and the pennies

Running (or jogging) is probably the most democratic of sport activities. Or, at least it used to be. After all, you just put your old trainers on and run. On the street, in the park, on gravel, on tarmac, it did not matter; it was your body and mind working together. No wonder, corporations did not make much money from jogging before.

That has all changed in the last ten to fifteen years. I leave it to the specialists, the sociologists, psychologists and stand-up comedians to do the analysis as to why there is as much money in flogging running gear as there is in selling football kits. One thing I know: running has become sexy.

Understand that this is not sexy in relation to sexual intercourse. This is sexy as in "look sexy". We want to be seen running. This new approach is not gender-specific. Both men and women spend vast amounts of money on gadgetry and performance-enhancing gels and food. And you know what? Yours truly is part of that group. There is no way I am going to get up on my high horse. That horse has already run off and left me behind (probably with its own £400 GPS watch).

In my defence all I will say is that in order to complete my recent marathon I had to follow a strict training regime, the like of which I had never done before. Still, my Run Media Arm Pocket was a luxury. If I am going to be completely honest I have not spent thousands of pounds in my running gear. However, I know that the main reason for that is that I have not got those thousands of pounds to spend. Otherwise...

I can understand how breaking into a new pair of Lycra jogging shorts or purchasing a £20 set of Climaheat Gloves make the average John and Joanna Public feel more accomplished, more focused, better prepared, more efficient. I have had the same adrenaline rush. My run becomes more effective, or at least I think it does. In reality it is nothing more than the equivalent of a sugar rush. Shopping as an “upper”.

Let’s talk about fitness and more specifically about running. Or, as we used to say, back in the day, jogging. Simple, basic and easy. Put your trainers on. Go to the local park and do a few laps around it. After all, even Pheidippides managed the 42 kilometres between Marathon and Athens. True, he died as he delivered the message he had been tasked with. Who knows? Perhaps, if he had had a hydration rucksack with a few energy gels in it to help him along the way the outcome would have been different.

© 2016

Next Post: “Saturday Evenings: Stay In, Sit Up and Switch On”, to be published on Saturday 11^th June at 6pm (GMT)

Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music

Today for the fifth time this week (that is, if the weather’s nice) I will make my legs and body hurt. I will make my nose so runny that snot will be coming out of it in buckets (I do beg your pardon; you might be having your breakfast whilst reading this post on your snazzy and shiny new smartphone or iPad). Finally, I will have caused blisters to appear in between my toes; a consequence of chafing.

You might be thinking that I have become a modern disciple of the Marquis de Sade in relation to my body. You would be wrong, though

Reader, I’m a runner.

For about twenty years now I have been an active jogger. Track or pavement, you name it, I have pounded on it. I still remember my regular runs at Havana University Stadium in the mid-90s when I was still a student at uni. But then my professional life began and I had to adapt my running hours to my new work schedule.

Relocated to the UK in ’97, I didn’t run for the first year or so. I was still getting used to my surroundings. Then, one day, on a warm, summer Sunday morning, I told my wife I would go out for a short run. Despite my fitness, I could feel my muscles aching. I could only manage a couple of laps around our local park. In spite of the physical discomfort, however, I realised that I was still in love with jogging. I vowed to go back to it in earnest and have kept my promise since.

A recent article posed the questions: Why? Why do we run? Mine was one of the 688 replies the feature got: why shouldn’t I?  I agreed with the author of the column, Adharanand Finn that “Running brings us joy. Watch small children when they are excited, at play, and mostly they can't stop running. Back and forth, up and down, in little, pointless circles.” Moreover, running is liberating. Yes, there’s the ache (not pain, if you feel pain, stop doing it and check with your GP), the wear and tear to which you submit your knees over time and the aforementioned bodily fluid coming out of your nose. But there’s also a sense of letting go and leaving your troubles behind.

In my case there’s another reason to go out for a jog on a cold, winter’s day with the temperature hovering just over the 0° mark. It’s hard to explain, though, because my motivation is not based on one single element, but rather, on a symbiosis of different factors: I run outdoors on my own whilst listening to music.

The outdoors aspect gives me a scenery, albeit of an urban ilk, that changes constantly. Even when I’m constantly jogging along the same roads and taking the same route. My loneliness is the catalyst for inspiration (whether it results in a post on my blog or an article for publication in a newspaper or magazine). The music is one of the more important elements. A lot of the melodies I’ve come to enjoy and appreciate in recent years have been listened to whilst I’ve been pounding the streets and pavements of my barrio.

Over the years my running routine has changed. Back in Cuba I used to run in the mornings. That changed drastically when I started to work as a teacher and began my semi-professional dancing career with the Havana University Folkloric Ensemble. I could only jog whenever the opportunity arose. Settled in the UK and my love for running rekindled, I used to set out in the mornings again. For the last decade, however, I have opted for sunsets instead of sunrises as companions to my regular run. Nevertheless, a few years ago, on a warm summer Sunday morning, I went out for a jog. It was still very early and the sun was not out yet. As I went up a steep hill, Bach’s Prelude in C major (performed by cellist Yo-Yo Ma) kicked in on my mp3 player. As if on cue, the sun began to rise behind me. It was pure magic. Had I been looking for a branch of philosophy that could explain why I was running up that hill, that wordless moment would have summed up it for me perfectly: the beautiful innateness of jogging.

© 2013

Next Post: “Urban Diary”, to be published on Wednesday 27^th February at 11:59pm (GMT)