The Scribbler

13 February 2010

Out for a run

Filed under: run — The Scribbler @ 21:22
Tags: , ,

Porridge, banana, blueberries and honey. Emergency pound coin and keys in the back pocket. Garmin set, stretch and go…

What happened to me? When did this become my weekend routine? What did I used to do besides the usual cleaning, tidying, washing, cooking?

I can no longer really remember, because the itch of the run takes over. Even on a grey day, a cold day, it’s there when I wake, when I know it’s a run day.

Today I venture out and soon skip back indoors in search of another layer. The north wind is baltic blowing over from Scandanavia. There’s ice in its touch.

But the air is clean, and the ozone tang of the sea sucks at my lips. I set off, anxious to be moving to warm myself through this cold air.

The breeze challenges my eagerness, cautions me to ease into this, biting at my ears, my nose, my fingers. Breath steams out in patches as I battle with sense that says steady and the anxiety to do better.

I’m tense and tetchy. Struggling to push on tired legs, wanting to make this one count, but manage the distance. Brows furrowed, heckles raised, running into the crosswind. Isn’t the theory for a 10k blast out and hang on…? Stop thinking and analysing so much…relax and enjoy it. Gradually the knots are eased away. But then I drift. Lose focus. Fall off the pace.

I turn at the usual marker and it’s like someone turned the volume off. The wind’s white noise vanishes and the temperature rises in an instant. Now I should pick it up. Now I should run free, stretch out, push the pace while the air is still. But the legs are heavy and I’m coasting, taking the easy option.

Still it’s a glorious thing to be out and running. And I tell myself this will be a good one. That I’ll feel good when I’ve done it.

On the way home now and catch up with a couple of runners. A few hundred meters to go and I push up the tempo, showing off. But I’m wishing for this to end as I struggle for breath. Distance done, I pull up and stretch out my hamstrings. The runners go past and are soon out of sight as I jog home out of the rain.

10km 54.37
1. 5.07
2. 5.24
3. 5.40
4. 5.40
5. 5.41
6. 5.24
7. 5.21
8. 5.36
9. 5.22

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