Oh, I did?
More than once?
Actually, I’m not sorry at all. I’m going to say it again. I love running.
I love my running shoes being covered in mud. I love finding half a packet of fruit pastilles in my pocket and saving them for the next run. I already told you how much I love looking at how far and how fast I went.
I love it that running takes me to parts of the city I wouldn’t otherwise go to.
On Saturday I went down the hill to the park, and got mixed up in the tail end of the local parkrun. I bumped into a man I used to run with at the back when I first started doing it, and we walked for a while, talking about what we’d been doing.
He turned off towards the finish, and I carried on up the valley, running alongside the river. There were a few runners out, and a few dog walkers, but it was quiet. It was cold, and windy, but the sun shone and it was sheltered in the woods.
I went uphill for a long time. I went slowly, and walked a lot. This was a long run – more about ‘time on feet’ than pace. Eventually I emerged from the wooded valley and could look back over the city.
I’d climbed about 800 feet, and this was the high point of the run, so I was taking advantage of it being relatively flat. Until I spotted the clouds building up behind me, and decided I’d best pull my finger out and head for home.
This week the mileage takes a step back, to allow me to recover a little. I’ll run five times, instead of three, but they’ll all be short and relatively easy. Next week I’ll need another long route – I wonder where I’ll end up this time?