The ten-mile mark.

Yesterday, I didn’t go out. I know that’s the advice, to stay at home and save lives, but when I say I didn’t go out, I didn’t even go out for my once-daily exercise. We’re all still trying to come to terms with this new normal, this new way of life, and I’m quickly learning what works, and doesn’t, for me.

A few months ago, maybe even years, I had the joy of reading Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, and really getting inside the mind of this wonderful novelist whose other passion was (or arguably still is) long-distance running.

Early on, on page two in fact, there is a passage where Murakami talks about his aims and ambitions when it comes to running, and what it means to him. It seems blindingly obvious to state that by running faster, the overall time running will reduce. But getting this balance right is not only crucial to someone working out how they will cover a route – it’s also vital that each of us understands this balance in our lives under lockdown.

‘To keep on going, you have to keep up the rhythm. This is the important thing for long-term projects. Once you set the pace, the rest will follow.’ Murakami remarks comparing the notion of setting out on a long run and the act of writing a novel.

In order to counter yesterday’s lethargy, I decided that today I would put on my trainers and pound the roads. Normally, I’ll run between five and eight kilometres, and where I used to wear headphones and carry my phone with me, I now start a stopwatch as I set-off and enjoy losing myself to nothing more than the noise of my feet hitting the pavement and background acoustics of the wind, traffic and wildlife as I run along a route.

Today however, I thought I’d push myself farther to make up for my recent inaction. I set a route that would surpass the ten-mile mark that would pass  the fields I’d cycled by a hundred times, the benches where we’d have summer barbecues, the parks where we’d explore as scouts, the village hall where my best friend held numerous barn dances, the dentist I used to go to, the rival school, the country manor, the old railway cut under Dr Beeching. It was familiar and known and I was determined to finish.

The temptation when you set out is to settle into a pace that’s brisk in order to feel like you’re improving on your previous attempts. The challenge when facing some longer distance is slowing yourself down as you begin. It feels unnatural to limit yourself, but as Murakami wrote, and most can correlate, the quicker you expend energy, the lesser the time spent running. You must resist the temptation to start fast.

This isn’t normal to me, to be in Somerset. I’ve settled into a life of true independence in London. But being back here, I’m having to reestablish routine, as many are doing throughout the UK. I’ve already made mistakes in not making time for my passions and interests, missing the social connection of swing dance and the solitude of literature, and I’m working to bring those back into the balance.

Every change takes a while to get used to, so it’s no surprise that it will take time to adjust to life as we know it. However tempting it is to hit the ground running right now to escape life under lockdown, we need to remember it’s a marathon we face right now. Get the balance right early on, and we will get through this.