next week will be a belle and sebastian week

I have got a brace for my Achilles tendon, I have bought Arnica oil, I have rested it but it won’t heal, it’s gone all Greek tragedy on me.

The thing that frustrates me the most about the situation just like when my calf gave me problems was that I was so into it. The best I could do this week was a four kilometer run and I can’t tell you how unsatisfying it is, knowing that I could be going a little further down that road and not for the moment.

Instead I have been re-reading my, ‘What I talk about when I talk about running ‘by Murakami, which is just sublime; there are passages in that book that just resonate with my personality, the astute observations, the dedication and endurance which running and life in general requires.

I have though used some of the time to swim which has been great particularly as it’s been so hot and the pool, well it’s cool in the pool as the saying goes. The crystal clear water, the blue pool tiles with a white middle tile to help centre you in the lane, and here you should not take to narrow a view of centre.

I have enjoyed it, it has allowed me to think especially as I have not been running, I think about all sorts of things, work being the most annoying of those but thoughts drift into you head and just as quickly they evaporate as the next one pushes through breaking your conscious. I think a part of me finds clarity when my mind is allowed that freedom and my body is doing something repetitive.

However the thing with swimming is that it’s not running. The most obvious difference for me is that there’s no Belle and Sebastian playing, those Indie pop-rockers from Scotland who are my favourite running ear candy. Swimming is different the sounds are mostly silent, you hear the sound of your breathing, the bubbles that your exhales create, that Kauai blender which occasionally rasps and scared the crap out of me the first time I heard it. I kept thinking about jaws until I figured it out, it was just a smoothie that was been made.

The other obvious difference is that when you are running there are people, cars on the road, dogs on the promenade, the odd pretty girl that you pass and the landscape which changes, everything is in a state of flux, yet it’s a predictable routine.

Once in say every 15 runs, do I feel great but for the most part I hurt at some point and I have to force myself to get there, step by step, creating momentum and finding an inertia that’s for movement and not for the opposite which is for being still and remaining still.

When I’m swimming, I don’t feel those things, perhaps if I swam for a longer, that’s my intention eventually as the year pans out to become a much stronger swimmer. Swimming for me is just so luxurious, I have this lovely pool mostly to myself, I’m in the water and I’m a bit of a water baby, that if I didn’t have a purpose, I would probably just float about for hours.

Last night at the end of the sequence which went like this: 1-1-20 and 1 for luck, the first two false starts was because I got water in the goggles, then I hit my straps and just got it done because the place was going to close. However right at the end before I was going to leave my favourite enclosed body of water, I had taken my goggles off and plunged down to the bottom and I opened my eyes, I couldn’t see much, it was murky and I’m short sighted but I was reminded of that break through moment when you get to open your eyes for the first time under water and it’s such a cool feeling, the liberation of conquering your fears and seeing a whole other world. Last night I did that again maybe the next time I’ll dive into the pool just to feel like what it feels like because I haven’t done it in an age.

It looks like a weekend of more swimming and hopefully in the new week, I’m back on the road for a few days of running out the comb webs, getting passed by pretty girls who bounce by in the latest sports gear and with the most sparkling gadgets. Next week will be a Belle and Sebastian week.