Today, I looped the lake six times. Only the need to get home and get on with the day stopped me running more. The first few laps are tough. You're conscious of the repetition. You tell yourself that you need to break away from the lake and search for variation in the streets. Boredom dangles above you in a way that makes you think it might fall, smack you on the head and knock you out. But then you settle into the routine. You forget where you are. Or, more accurately, you disappear into your lungs, heart and head. It no longer matters whether you're circling a lake, bouncing on the rubber belt of a treadmill or zigzagging through the city grid of detritus. If I pushed myself to loop the lake as many times as I could, I'm pretty sure my body would give way before my mind .
