My routine morning run can be 3.5 miles or 6 miles. I usually decide based on time before hand whether I can squeeze in the extra 20 minutes required for the full run. Sometimes, though, my 6-mile run becomes my 3.5-mile run halfway through.

My run is a big loop around town. The longer run is technically around two towns (but they’re small towns). The shorter run has a turn which, if I take it, will cut the run in half.

Many times, I start out for a six-mile and decide to cut it short because I don’t feel like running the longer run.

But the point of that decision … is a single turn. It’s at this one stupid intersection where I can turn and cut the run short.

I know that if I make it past that turn, I’ve committed to the full run.

So, I’ve noticed over the years that if my goal is to do the long run … I need to psyche myself up for that turn.

If I think about the longer run and how tired I will be … I won’t do it. On a cold wet morning at 6am, I just want to get back home and get warm and dry.

But … if I think about just running straight through that turn, it’s much easier. So that’s my goal in the mornings— to go straight at that turn. That’s an easier decision. Once I go straight, I’m committed to finishing the run.

I read this advice in a Twyla Thwarp book many years ago called “The Creative Habit”. She said that her goal in the morning was to get dressed in workout clothes and get in the cab for the gym. If she focused on the entire task of working out, it would demotivate her. So, the simple task of getting in a cab is what keeps her doing it.

I started doing the same after reading that book. I know that if I put on my running shorts in the morning, I won’t take them off afterwards without running at least a little.

Motivation, I’ve found, is making your decisions small enough to be manageable. Instead of “I’m going to run every day for the rest of my life”, it’s easier to say “I’m going to run today.”

It’s been almost two months since my last post.  One of my last posts was something along the lines of wanting to write more.  Well . . .

Actually, I’ve been working a lot the past few months and in my spare time I’m doing a lot of running.  I finally got through the London Marathon ballot this year, so I’m trying to take that pretty seriously.

Last week, I did two 9-mile runs during the week before work (and three mile runs on the other days).  On Sunday, I ran 21.8 miles.  The marathon is two months away, but I wanted to see if I could run that far. My distances have been gradually increasing each week, so I’m confident I should be okay on marathon day—at least, if i keep from injuring myself.

My long run on Sunday was the farthest I’ve ever run without stopping to walk.  I ran a marathon when I was 22, but after 18 miles I started to walk and did a half-run, half-walk, for the rest of the race.  They say the important thing is being able to finish, but I’ve always been disappointed in myself for walking.  This time, for my second marathon 18 years later, I will do a lot better.

I’m enjoying the really long runs. A short run (and I consider the 9-mile run to be short these days) are usually over tried-and-true paths which I’m very familiar with.  But the long run has become like a trip.  A few weeks ago, I ran to the next big town over.  This week, I followed a bike path that went through several villages in the area that I would probably never drive through. It was nice.  It took me 3 hours and 8 minutes.

I started experimenting with different things while running.  I tried those sport gels for energy, and they worked pretty well –but they cost a pound a pop.  The first week I tried to eat some of the gel I thought I was going to be sick, but the next week I knew what to expect and, after an hour and a half of running, thought it was tastiest thing I’d ever eaten.  This last week, I shoved a hot-cross bun in the pocket of my running jacket and ate that after an hour.  I never would have thought I could eat and run and the same time, but if someone could—it would be me.

While on the long run the other day, I passed an older guy running.  I thought my pace was slow, but I passed this guy really quickly.  It was in the middle of no-where (no towns nearby), so I assumed he was going a good distance.  I said good morning to him as I passed, but then became very worried about my pace.  I thought I must be going too fast and I would be stuck miles from home limping back.  But it was fine—I completed the whole distance.

I listen to a lot of podcasts and audio books when I run.  The biggest problem with marathon training is keeping your mind occupied.  When you get into a rhythm and stop thinking about the running, it gets almost like a long car trip.  If you can stop from thinking about your legs or how tired you are, you’re fine.  But when you do focus on the pain, it’s difficult to continue.  Music is nice for the shorter runs, but the long distances need something a bit more engaging.

One thing I noticed about these long Sunday runs (I only passed 10 miles about 6 weeks ago), is that once I stop, my legs seize up.  I’m fine while running, but as soon as I finish, within 5 minutes my calves will tighten to where it’s difficult to stand.  Usually, a hot bath seems to loosen them up just fine though.

The half-marathon is a month away.  The London Marathon is two months away.  If I can keep from injuring myself, I should be okay.

I’m a big believer in New Year’s Resolutions.  Having said that, I hadn’t really thought of any.  Sure, there’s the resolutions that could be carried over from last years—all that diet and exercise stuff—but nothing new.

At this time of year, I feel self-conscious about running. Tomorrow morning will the the worst.  The sidewalks and pavements are always packed with runners on the first of Jan.  Since my long career in running has not done much to reduce my weight (imagine if I didn’t run!), I always look like a novice when I’m out there.  I look like a New Year’s runner.  But still, there’s nothing wrong with being someone out on a run because they made a resolution.  Good for them!  They probably feel self-conscious too, but they do it anyway.

This time of year, if you talk about resolutions, 3 or 4 people say the same thing– “My resolution this year is to not make any resolutions!”  Hah!  Get’s me every time!  How clever.

The problem I always had with resolutions is that I fear being mocked if I don’t carry them out.  I felt the same way when I started running or earlier this year when I started going to the gym.  I felt that if I start, I could never stop because that would be failure somehow. 

If I go for a run on 1 January, for example, I feel as if I have to run every day after that.  If I start going to the gym, I need to go for years.  But the truth is, this kind of fear stopped me from doing lots of things.  If I go to the gym once, it’s one time more than never going.  If I see it as something I need to do today rather than a commitment to something for the rest of my life, it makes it much easier to handle. 

My most famous resolution with my family is the time I decided I would become a vegetarian.  It lasted 7 days.  But that burger on January 7th was fantastic!

My parents quick smoking on New Years when I was a kid.  They never took it up again.  Resolutions are not always broken.

There’s nothing magical about a New Year’s resolution—it just gives you an excuse to make a goal.  An it’s easier to tell people how long you’ve been keeping it up.

I’ll spend today thinking of a good resolution.  It seems a waste of a calendar change if I can’t come up with one.

Happy New Year and I wish you a wonderful 2010.