When September ends . . . again . . .

[Sweder]

Hard graft in the muggy, misty hills this morning.
Despite cool conditions the air hung heavy with clinging moisture. Not missle or light rain but a kind of crazy English version of south-east Asian humidity. Within a mile my T-shirt was drenched in sweat and I was struggling. Having rested yesterday after the madness of Nigel’s hash run I found this baffling; I should be full of vim and vigour – it’s Wednesday and I’ve done one (swift) three miler this week. I can only surmise that this weird wetness has in some way stifled the oxygen supplies; that or I’m just generally knackered. With three weeks of horrendous work-related travel ahead – Copenhagen, Shenzen, Moscow and Los Angeles – running opportunities will be thin on the ground. I’d hoped to bank some quality mileage this week, but c’est la vie.

Running 'on the road' is a subject I discussed with Niguel on Monday. Of all the people I know addicted to this running life Nigel travels more than most. He always packs his runners but as I know only too well you don’t always get the chance to use them. At best I can expect a series of short, early morning city runs. This is a double-edged sword; flat hard pavement pounding will do little for my prospects in the Jog Shop Jog, the barbaric ultra-hilly off-road 20-miler, next month, but may benefit the [b]Brighton 10K[/b] in November.