My poor body went from basking in 27 degrees of Florida sunshine to jet-lagged bones at the start line of the Chester 10k with the biting British breeze in my face. It was a blessing. I was able to allow myself to just complete the run - with no expectations. It’s been years since I travelled so far that I’d forgotten about the jet lag. I woke up feeling like it was 2:00am, legs heavy from 10 days of 20,000 steps (minimum) a day. I was sensible and my race things prepared the night before - except I couldn't find any safety pins for my race bib, anywhere! I couldn't have done it without m y mum, who supported me by watching my youngest whilst I completed the race. The drive was smooth and we arrived in the area with plenty of time, but, as I'd picked the 10:00am start time, the roads were being closed intermittently to allow the earlier waves through. This resulted in me jumping out the car and getting myself to the start whilst mum darted around to find a car park. There ...
I reached a breaking point today during my run. I’d dragged a heavy head and a lingering cold out to the Breakwater, determined to hit a "28-minute threshold" session because a digital calendar told me to. The run was miserable. My watch was a constant, chirping nag, "scolding" me because my heart rate wasn't hitting the target. I was failing a test designed by an algorithm that didn't know I was sick. The Ant Mill Effect It made me think of an "Ant Mill", that bizarre phenomenon where ants follow a pheromone trail in a perfect, mindless circle until they drop from exhaustion. They aren't going anywhere; they’re just obeying a signal. I realised I had become an ant. I was so busy staring at a flickering number on my wrist that I’d stopped looking at the horizon. I was "optimising" the joy right out of my life, trapped in a digital loop of my own making. The Lesson from Walt I let my dog, Walt, off his lead at the start of the Breakwa...