Oktober

[Sweder]

A four day amnesty for my legs and lungs had left me itching to get out and run.
Finally, in the dawn’s early light this morning I cracked. Out the door by 07:15, hounds at my heels, an eerie Spielberg sky fomenting above; thick grey clouds wrestled with their darker, rain-laden cousins, the occasional sliver of sunlight piercing the rolling thunderheads. Someone’s going to cop it and soon; best make haste.

As expected my thighs and calves creaked a bit on the outward climb, the vicious blast of wind seeming mercifully to help us on the outward lope. The dogs rejoiced, having been subjected to a series of short strolls with Mrs S, racing up the slopes of Landsport Bottom until they were mere dots on the horizon.

I stretched out at the top of Blackcap, watching the battle rage overhead. The black clouds were definitely winning, the first spots of the approaching deluge blowing across the downs. I struck for home into the teeth of the howling gale, struggling to find a rhythm and solid footing on the slippery trail. Over Wicker Man Hill and down towards the stables, my hamstring humming, left knee chuntering, all the while thinking how I must get some of the RC-ers down here to share this feast of autumnal running. The rain intensified, slanting in like the thick angry strokes of an artists’ pencil.
I confess to grinning; I just love it.

Home in around 48 minutes, exhilarated, ready for the rest of the day.
Slurping a coffee before my shower I watched the heavens open full-bore, lashing the leaves from the trees and drumming crazily on the roof of my truck.
Here’s to Sunday and next week, when the Two Oceans training really starts.