Club Runner

Embracing life as a club runner in this downtime between races, and beyond

I’ve been a member of Corsham Running Club for over a year, but a few weeks ago, I went to my first ever actual club run. I’ve done races with them, but I’ve somehow never quite made it to the Tuesday club session. I finally did and it was just what I needed.

The session I go to is a recce of the course for a race the club organises called the Hazelbury Hurrah. There is no pursuit other than keeping up with each other, not losing each other, and collectively following a route. We have self-selected our group because we believe/know ourselves to be of a similar pace, and that’s enough. We’re not here to race, not even necessarily to chat, just to run together.

It’s a reminder of the simplicity of the thing. I train alone, I always mainly have, but in a counter-intuitive way it can become more complicated alone. You have to hold so much in your own head: the route, the pace, the weather, the conversation. Shall I wear a jacket? No one else is. Where are we going? Doesn’t matter, Ben is leading and he knows. What’s the pace? Won’t even look, just need to stay with the lads. 

Combining running with chatting is where I struggle slightly. I’m an introvert and portioning off that social energy feels like rubbing my tummy while patting the top of my head. But as readers of previous posts will know, my brain can go a bit dark on its own. While we’re all whooping and cheering down a muddy trail or discussing the best local manors for sale, there isn’t quite so much room for my fierce inner critic.

In this liminal space where I haven’t quite committed to my next adventure yet, it is so soothing to just let myself be held by the club. There’s no internal pressure. The glory is all in a simple shared quest. It’s utterly wholesome. After the run, we got to the Quarryman’s Arms for a drink. With mutters of 6am starts, grumblings of needing to eat, the realisation that I myself need to cycle home before it gets too dark, we leave the pub, which was also without pressure or much forethought.

For days afterwards, I felt a new warm glow. But despite unwavering intentions, I have since struggled to make it to another club run. There’s just so much life in the way, isn’t there, in work and illness and just plain laziness. But everyone faces the same sorts of challenges. There is never time and there is always time. We’re always tired. But once we get going, what does any of that matter?

So I am using this week’s blog post to hold myself accountable: I will go again next week. There’s a 5k handicap race on Thursday and I’m not in shape to run any kind of spectacular time, but again, what does that matter? I’m embracing taking the pressure off and sharing the load a little bit.