The worst time when I’m running is not the last stretch, the agonising last minutes when you dig deep for your remaining strength. No, instead I hate the first few awkward minutes.
Every time I go out it’s like learning how to run all over again. Is that really how legs move? Am I too bouncy? And most importantly and certainly most awkwardly…
What is my left hand doing?
What do I do with it?
How stupid does it look?
Sort it out.
Right hand is doing a very honourable job holding my phone, source of both my music and my running app. Right hand is gripping. Right hand is being very useful. But left hand?
Damn, left hand is being a joke. My own self awareness makes the situation exponentially more dire and for the first lap I am consumed by the quandary that is my left hand.
I become Stewie Griffin of family guy singing ‘my left foot’. I feel a total buffoon all because I have no idea what to do with my stupid limb. 5 fingers debating how bent to be l. I review over and over, what do I normally do?
And this is the infuriating bit. The rest of the run everything is fine. I have no awareness of my hand outwith those first agonizing minutes. My hand is just an extension of my running self and works just fine… Or at least I assume it does as I have no recollection of thinking about it outside the first lap.
Damn you left hand.
You odd beast you.