It was only three and a half miles, but after nine runless days, it represented something much bigger.
Even at my level – or perhaps particularly at my level – it’s frightening how quickly you can lose that feeling of familiarity with something as simple as running along a road. After just a week or so of idleness, I felt even more awkward and unco-ordinated than normal. The underworked muscles were grumpy, and after only three miles I was feeling the start of little strains all over my legs and lower back.
The first ten minutes were quite horrible. It was very cold and windy, and one of those occasions when I wondered what the hell I was doing, running up a long, straight wind tunnel wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt and shorts. The strong urge to stop and turn back was just resisted, and once into the second mile I began to feel warmer and happier.
Despite the chilly gusts, the sun just managed to hang on as I reached the path through the grounds of the estate. I counted 130 deer grazing alongside the lake. It lifted me a lot, and I almost considered enjoying myself.
Maybe that will happen tomorrow.
