It was clear some weeks ago that autumn was here, but today still came as a surprise. It was a blustery, empty afternoon. The sky was deep grey. I don’t mind running in the rain; indeed I enjoy it, as a sort of expression of defiance. But I still used the threat of its arrival as a spur to get out there.
I’ve taken to driving to the canal to run, avoiding the mile each way of concrete pavement. I left the car in a secluded parking area that was 6 inches deep in fallen leaves. It looked like no one had stopped there for a year. A faded sign said: “Cars parked without a valid ticket will be towed away“. I called their bluff, and trotted off up the towpath.
I saw only two living creatures in my 50 minute plod, both human. An elderly man in a trench coat, his collar turned up against the stiff wind, and a young guy in a teeshirt, sitting on top of a barge moored to the bank. No one had told him it wasn’t the summer anymore. Maybe that’s the secret.
The run was annoyingly tough. I’d got complacent after my 4 miles on Friday, thinking that I might just push on for 5 today. But I felt ponderous and dense today. I had a hard gym session yesterday, and the lead was still in my legs. They were hard to lift. At one point I tripped on a concealed bump, and thought I was going to go sprawling again. I’ve fallen only 5 times in 7 or 8 years of running. It should be more. I felt myself plummeting earthwards, but an instinctive shimmy, and unlikely shuffle of the feet, somehow brought me back upright before I felt my face sinking into the damp leaves.
The iPod’s been rehired. Today I listened to a blues compilation I’d not heard in full for maybe 20 years. I found it yesterday while looking for something Miles Davis-ish to keep me company in the gym. I saw this instead, and listened to the first half while plunging through my cardiovascular routine. 12 minutes each on the static bike, elliptical cross-trainer, stepper, rowing maching and treadmill, with a token spot of manly weight-lifting halfway through. Second half today, while shambling through the thick layer of leaves. Good music for such a featureless day. It reminded me that I should pick up that electric guitar again sometime, and blast out a bit of noise while there’s no one else in the house.
Just as I got home, the rain started to fall. I don’t mind running through the stuff, but as I stood half in, half out of the car, trying to retrieve all my paraphernalia, still in my teeshirt and shorts, it felt horrible. Just goes to prove that running turns you into a different sort of person.
Tomorrow I’ll take the rest day I should have had today.
