5.5km one way is just about a right distance to kick-start the day. Endorphin rush turns you to Superman jumping the rooftops and saving the world straight until lunch time. As I usually carry clothes for change, second set of running gear, notepad, laptop and some other stuff, the rucksack is almost 7kg heavy. Once checked in, I take a shower, shave, brush the teeth and well before 8am, tie on, ready for whatever the world throws at me. Meetings, presentations, emails, phone calls, projects, deadlines. People, commitments, budgets, tasks. Decisions.
Once the day is over, after working regularly for 10-12 hours, there is nothing better than detox run home. I literally see those 28 minutes as a reward and feel blessed. It is exactly what I need to de-stress, clean-up my head and regroup for next day. There is still this crazy swirl of last few emails, fragments of conversations, meeting flashbacks and tasks for tomorrow in my head as I fix the laces, switch on red flashlight attached to rucksack and the headlamp in front, adjust the straps and press “Start” on my Garmin. But by the time I run half a kilometer slightly uphill, zig-zag through the industrial zone and turn left at the fire station, all is gone. It is only my breath and regular pounding of the trainers on the pavement. Passing by stationary traffic I feel happy and free. Earlier this summer Pearl Izumi had an advert in Triathlete magazine: “Work is nothing but a place to rest. Sandwiched between two long rides.” In my case: runs.