Coronavirus diary - 29 May 2020

Depending on the moment I sit down to write this, it could either become an ode to the joy of lockdown, living in rural splendour, sunny days of idyllic memories being formed as we spend our time not going anywhere, one daughter playing film scores on the piano, the other baking cakes, my son writing stories about Zachariah the Great and the Battle of Hart Wood, while Marietta’s vegetables grow bountiful in the garden, and I lace up my running shoes for a jaunt through the bluebells. At another moment, however, it could be a tale of chaotic encampment, five people living on top of each other in a confined space, too much time spent glued to iPhones, constant piles of washing-up, heated words, muttered sighs, time racing away with to-do lists never ending, no time to run.

It swings between the two.

Outside, the world seems to be moving on, as Captain Boris would like. Groups flagrantly walk together through our town, people invite friends around to camp in their garden. Here in Totnes at least, long before Classic Dom’s eyesight test drive to Barnard Castle, it already seemed a fair few people were breaking the rules. In this town of alternative thought, anti-lockdown sentiment runs high. If you think Covid-19 is a real thing, you’re just not awake yet. But what is behind all the shutdowns? Is it 5G? Mad Chinese scientists? Bill Gates? An attempt by the government to control us? Big Pharma? Or blood-sucking cults that can only be toppled by the lone renegade hero Donald Trump? Yes, these are all certainties circulating this famously hippy town, to the point that the other day I wasn’t surprised when I overheard someone becrying: “They’ve even hijacked the rainbow.” I presume they were talking about the evil NHS. Will nobody think of the unicorns?

Anyway, you didn’t come here for the intricacies of life in Totnes. What about the running, you say? Well to be honest, there is little to add. I’ve been ticking along, trying to build up my mileage, to throw in a few more speed sessions, but it can be difficult to keep pushing myself to go beyond the simple pleasures of a steady run without a race on the horizon. I’ve always trained in cycles, building up the intensity towards a key race, and then easing off, usually too much, putting on weight, and then starting all over again. When the pandemic first struck, I was just beginning my first building up stage since the UTMB in 2018. I had an ultra planned in China in March and my first Skyrace in Andorra in July. Big goals again. I was excited. But before I had barely got going, it was all off.

Every evening I tell myself I’ll get up at 7am, go and hit the early morning trails. And every morning I roll over and say, ah, I can skip it today. I’ll go tomorrow. But as Janis Joplin once said so eloquently, and it’s especially true right now: “It’s all the same fucking day, man.” So I do most of my runs some time in the afternoon, when the realisation that the day is slipping from my fingers hits, and my body feels the urge to move, to shake off the apathy, to blow away the confusion, when I feel the need to re-find my strength.

I was getting a little pleasure from creating Strava segments on my local routes and every now and then blasting through one to try to set a new best time. But it seems Strava, having got us all addicted to its best features, is now putting most of them behind a paywall. I’m not moaning, they have to pay the bills, and I guess I’ll sign up eventually, but thanks for ruining my fun, guys.

Of course, people are always telling me to put the watch away, and it’s something I always tell myself. Discover the joy of running free, they say. That’s even the title of Richard Askwith’s book all about moving beyond the watch to the promised land of enjoying running. The odd thing is I didn’t even own a watch until I got back from Kenya. I never knew how far or fast I was running, and I was just as competitive back then, trying to run hard and break PBs.

But it’s true, the watch can take away the fun and it can make running feel somehow stressful, like you have someone on your shoulder constantly nagging you to slow down or speed up. In my latest podcast (coming very soon!) I speak to the amazing Abdi Nageeye, a two-o-six guy who trains in Kenya with the marathon world record holder Eliud Kipchoge. I asked him what was the best piece of advice the great man ever gave him. He says that Eliud saw him looking at his watch in training a few times and said: “Why are you looking at your watch? Just run with your feeling.”

Since then, he says, he never looks at his watch on a run. “I just start it, and then that’s it,” he says. “And then you run in freedom.”

Richard Askwith would approve. And really, Strava segments be damned, so do I.