I had my last day at work the day before Christmas Eve, and my last run commute to work the day before that. As I ran to work one last time I wanted to enjoy it, and to a certain extent I did. Being up and awake, setting off when it was still a bit dark and moving slowly towards the office on my own feet was as fun as ever. But the feeling of running didn’t feel as good as I know it can.

My legs didn’t feel light and my running wasn’t fluid. It’s been this way a lot recently. I had a rubbish run the other week, and since then most runs have been nothing to write home (or blog) about. I went through the motions though.

Then I finished work, got on a train and headed home for Christmas, and that’s when everything changed.

On Christmas Eve I got back to Peterborough and put my trainers on. My dad got on his bike and I ran while he cycled, for 4 miles. And it was great. My legs felt completely different to how they had two days before. I got back home feeling excited about my next run.

On Christmas Day my sister and I went to Peterborough parkrun. She hadn’t been back since her first parkrun at Easter and, with a lot more miles under her belt since then, I knew she’d get a faster time than she had then. I didn’t know what my legs would do, but hoped they’d be somewhere in the ballpark of my old PB.

After a few Christmas cheers, we headed off. I had made my way towards the front and planned to run a bit hard and see what happened. I didn’t look at my watch, but focused on the back of the woman in front of me as we made out way round the lake and through the field.

The first mile ticked by, and most of the second, before my stomach started to cramp and I slowed down. Oh well, at least my legs felt ok, so I shuffled on for a mile before perking up for the last half mile.

Pic credit: Peterborough parkrun

I collected my token and headed back off to find Emma and run the last part of the course with her. She crossed the line to collect a new PB (we estimated by about 4 mins), and headed back home to our pressies. Later that day we both got a text – her PB was confirmed and I had one too. I hadn’t bothered to look at the time (22:33) so this was a nice delayed Christmas gift.

On Boxing Day I expected my legs to groan as I took them out for another run. Again joined by my dad, we headed off for a 7 mile loop – but it was lovely. The miles came easily and my legs felt brand new.

A few weeks ago my friend Simon tweeted a link to an article about the effects of stress on the body. It described a study of college footballers and the higher rate of injuries among those who were stressed about their studies. It makes sense.

In the past year I’ve done a lot of running. I’ve also worked full-time while coaching and doing freelance writing outside of that – often leaving the house at 7am and not getting back to 9pm. My running has had to be squeezed in wherever it can fit: running to work, at lunchtime and home in the evenings or between clients. It’s no surprise that running didn’t always feel great.

And it’s not a big surprise that as soon as I stepped away from some of those commitments and had more time to run, my legs appreciated it.