A great run this evening. A classic, perfect example of my often-mentioned adage that the pleasure of a run tends to be in inverse proportion to the level of expectation. I really did not want to run this evening. It was raining heavily, and already beginning to get dark. Grudgingly, I decided to run 3 miles, and see how I felt then. But as I got to the 3 mile mark, I realised that I was enjoying myself, and carried on.
It was one of those runs when I felt myself really bounding along at times. It was also by far the most hazardous run I’ve done certainly since I’ve lived here, and perhaps ever. By the time I got onto the second circuit, it was pitch black and teeming. The roads I run on have no pavements, and are busy. The cars coming towards me had their headlights on full-beam, blinding me further (the rain and the sweat were doing a pretty good job of it already thanks).
Pace was 9:49 a mile which, over 7.5 miles, was really good for me. Hurrah!
