My morning run was somewhat better than other recent runs, but it was still frustrating. It seems as though I don’t mind running if it’s just a relaxed pace with no striving, but that the pushing the pace or the distance onward ramps up the discomfort to a point that makes me reluctant to run at all. This perspective arrives as I look ahead toward the Bannister Mile Run in May; while I might be ‘training’ to attain a better time with greater physical preparedness, I’m seeing more clearly that using running as my main means of getting fit entangles me in a frustrating negative feedback loop.
Coffee and fruit, Morning Prayer at home, in a few minutes I’ll feed the dogs and make tea for Margaret, clean up and dress, give the Passion Sunday sermon (in which I think I don’t mention the Passion once — that happens when I have a last-minute obligation to write the weekly newsletter’s cover blurb for Passion Sunday) a once-over and then print, lead Mattins at St Nic’s, dash to the ADCM at St Helen’s (or as much of it as remains), then slouch over to the Parish Centre for the Faith Forum on ‘Redemption’. Then, home to crash into rest.
Later: Whoops! ‘Isn’t Mattins the same service as Morning Prayer?’