Consistency or Complacency?

I am definitely a creature of habit. I have 1 running route that I run 95% of the time, knowing it so well I could run it in my sleep (and in fact, during my pre-work morning runs, with both eyes and mind at half mast, I generally am more asleep than awake). There’s something comforting about running the same route. I know exactly which physical landmarks align to my internal ones: My muscles loosen up by the time I cross the BU bridge. I get my first burst of energy as soon as Mass Ave comes into view. And I know that once I hit the 2nd water fountain I can pick up the pace and rely on a good song or two to carry me through.

But yesterday I thought I'd shake things up a bit. Halfway across the BU bridge, I decided to check out the Boston Common. I ran East where I usually run West (crazy, I know) and a short while later found myself in Beacon Hill. I ran by a group of adult tourists photographing one another sitting on the Boston Common Ducks; an unusually and somewhat eerily quiet (pre-Labor Day Sale madness) Newbury Street; and later a quorum of bikers from the “weird bikes gang” I occasionally see around the city.

I got home, mapped the run, and much to my pleasant surprise discovered that I’d run the easiest 7 miles I’d run in months—and almost 2 more than my default “long run”. Apparently my body appreciated me throwing myself a curveball. If anyone reading this is also too reliant on a regular route, I would definitely encourage the occasional deviation to keep things interesting...