It seems to have been quite a lucky day.
How does this happen? I set off after lunch, intending to zip round the block for 4 miles, but ended up banking 10.25 of the slippery buggers. The day was a beaut; mid-November, but it was actually warm out there this afternoon. Perhaps this persuaded me to eke out another mile. Then another. And another….
The run took me through the goose-coated deer park, past the lake, along my recently discovered secret path, up a mercilessly steep hill, through a forest via a bridleway that had me up to my ankles in liquid mud, down a tarmacked hill, over the level crossing, and along the canal towpath, eventually surfacing at the far end of the village, after which I drooped round the block in front of a smirking line of schoolkids for a final weary mile.
The surprising audio fuel was a selection of movie music I’d downloaded for M, for some event she was organising at work. Western themes appear to be surprisingly inspirational; something to do with their expansiveness (and no, I don’t mean they cost too much). By contrast, portentous horror movie soundtracks offer little benefit to the runner, particularly the runner plodding through a lonesome forest track, or on an empty canal path.
You might think I’m being modest to call this run “lucky” but that’s how I see it. Sometimes you just feel like it, and sometimes you don’t, and there’s no predicting it. Just the opposite: I often have bad runs when all the pieces seem to be in place, and the best runs appear when least expected.
The muddy bridlepath reminded me that I’d ordered some Asics Gel Trabucos. I could have done with them on the run, though I’m not sure I’d have appreciated the rich coating of gritty mud on brand new shoes. When I returned home, I had an email from the suppliers, telling me they are out of stock, and asking if I would accept the updated model for no extra charge. Yes I would. The only difference is a change of colour, and 25 of your crispy English pounds. And then, shortly after this, another mail was received, from another online supplier, telling me that the Asics Gel Foundation 8s I’d ordered (my current road shoe of choice) was also out of stock, and asking if I’d accept a pair of Evolution 5s, Asics’ up-market fat blokes’ shoe, again for no extra charge. Seeing as were about £30 more expensive, I agreed to that as well.
And this evening, the third stroke of luck. After countless fruitless attempts stretching back through the various series, M has finally been lucky in the Strictly Come Dancing ballot. No, she’s not dancing, but has managed to secure a couple of tickets for December 5th. She whooped the house down. I suppose I’ll actually have to watch it all the way through for once.
That’s it. I’m still cream-crackered after my 16 miles in the last 3 days, and the lingering effect of the beer and wine consumed on Sunday afternoon/evening. I shall now drift off to sleep, dreaming of quickstepping along the bridleway for 10 muddy miles in my new Trabucos, as Somewhere Over the Rainbow drifts across the valley.
Roll on tomorrow. National lottery day.
