A sprightly 35 minute run this evening. I’ve resolved to avoid — where possible — running in the dark this winter, but today I had to. It wasn’t easy, going back out into the cold void in my running stuff, having got home late from work. But some things have been experienced too often now to be able to ignore or deny. Among these truths is that however unappealing a run might seem at the outset, I always end up glad that I did it. In fact, the more unappealing, the more enjoyable they tend to be. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps with low expectations, the reality can only be a pleasant surprise.
Not murderously cold tonight. Perhaps 5 degrees or so.
Another resolution is to try to avoid running along the unlit, pavement-less lanes around here when it’s dark. Some are fairly busy, and perilous. The many hedge dents around West Berkshire mark the spots where I’ve come close to an unscheduled, near-intimate encounter with a speeding vehicle.
Tonight, I stuck to the pavement on the bigger road through the village, and around the business park beyond. Not a bad place to run, though I need to establish exactly where I’m allowed to be. Tonight, for the first time in more than 30 years, I was chased by a bloke in a uniform shouting at me that I was trespassing. Oh, the memories! How could I forget Cheeseface and Daddy Long Legs, the crusty old park-keepers who chased me and my gang from one end of our childhoods to the other — and never caught us once.
For the sake of puzzled younger readers, it should be explained that once upon a time, children were packed off to play in the park on their own, and frequently disappeared for hours on end without making that evening’s TV news bulletins. Weird, eh?
