It ended as it began. Running a breezy 5k by the banks of the River Taff. This was my 45th Cardiff parkrun, and with the end of Janathon in sight I even pushed myself to a PB. Not bad for my 31st run in 31 days. It feels strange to have finished the challenge, a mix of pride at having completed it, disappointment that it is over and even a strange tinge of embarrassment at setting a target that I hit. Not sure if that makes sense. Running involves lots of internal mindgames. Half way through the month I told myself that towards the end, if I was still running every day, I would take one day off just to prove to myself that it hadn’t become obsessional and that *I* was in control. I couldn’t do it. Even in victory there’s defeat.
Although the last few days have felt like one long happy surge to the finish line, there were plenty of runs that were awful and days I never would have gone out if it wasn’t for the extra motivation. In some ways it was a harder challenge than a marathon. Lacing up the trainers on 31 consecutive days during a grim Welsh January is not something I would have even contemplated a few years ago. So. What’s next?
Many thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read the blog. In numbers my Janathon looked like this: 31 runs, 31 blogs, 140 miles run, 19 hours of running, 2 PBs – 8miles and 5k
Spotted on this morning’s run: a wild assortment of shapes and colours lining up to run, Chariots of Fire re-imagined by Wassily Kandinsky; a knackered wristwatch lighting up a digital flurry of obstinate seconds ticking mercilessly on; infrequent signs and signals of where I am in the pack – a familiar hat, a recognisable gait – things that must be passed, and then the markers home. The 4k sign, the bridge, the gate, the marshall, 400m, 100m, the straight, and then, finally, stop.