Rocktober 2013

[Sweder]

At last.
Today, under clear blue skies, with an honest, chill wind in my face and soft turf under my feet, I felt it. That elusive, all-too-rare-around-here-lately rush of running romance. The pure, unfettered joy of letting loose and hurtling across the downs.

Sunday took a lot out of me. I expected today to be a stiff-legged plod, a chance to run the internal monitor over various aches and pains. So it proved for a mile or so, slogging into a headwind. I left the earphones at home, opting for nature's soundtrack. Chirping birds, the occasional bleat from far-away sheep, the rustle of autumn's last leaves clinging on against the breeze. I reached Blackcap a little behind the clock; 2.52 miles in 27 minutes. I paused at the trig point, drinking in the view. The Moyleman stretched out before me, a parade of peaks shimmering in the sunshine. What a beast! And yet, somehow, today at least, doable.

Perhaps it was that pause, perhaps running with the breeze at my back. I fair flew over those last couple of miles, grinning like a loon, arms pumping, feet flying. I'd chosen my oldest, flimsiest offroad boots, worn down to little more than laced-up flip-flops. I felt every bump, every grass-clump, every stone. Fabulous.

5.01 in 49 minutes and loose change.
Track du jour (on return home) Lookin' Back, Dr. Feelgood (live from the 1977 BBC sessions)