I crept gingerly into 2018 with my first run of this new revolution around the sun on a cold, mist covered night. It also happens to coincide with the end of my 33rd rotation on this bright blue orb and, in the month named for the Roman god of beginnings and endings, it is as good a time as any to reflect on the tumults and triumphs of the year gone by.
2017 was a year of highs and lows, namely the decision to undertake my first ultramarathon and to have seen it through. To have had the chance to reconnect with close family and spend Christmas once more among the rain slick streets of Dublin. This, unfortunately, came as a consequence of a broken relationship and a parting with good friends on foreign shores. But that, alas, is how the wheel has turned.
As 2017 drove towards its inevitable end I experienced my first ever setback through running. With age comes experience and as I stubbornly ignored a shin splint as it developed, into something altogether more substantial, I was forced to confront the limits of mind over matter.
Having returned home to Ireland, and in the weeks before my new job started, I was putting in some consistent mileage. Alas, too much and as such I was forced to sit out November, December and the first weeks of January. It was the longest period in my adult life where I wasn’t running regularly and I had to take some time to really listen to my body.
So now, fingers crossed, I am back. The offending ankle is rusty but pain free and we’ll see how things go.