Morgen Horgen

Up at 6:30 a.m. today after a sleepless night.

I first did what I always first do – step out onto the balcony at the front of the apartment and take a look at the Horgen Morgen.

The Swiss like regular blasts of cold air in their lives. It’s a habit I’ve learnt to appreciate. At least twice a day, someone will throw open one of the huge windows in our office. Up on that sub-zero hillside, it seems like irrational behaviour, but most of us grin appreciatively, precisely because it seems like irrational behaviour. We even gather round the open window in our shirt sleeves, gulping the icy air, stretching, and whimpering with pleasure. It’s a bit like gravitating towards an open fire on a freezing day. Except it’s, well, the total opposite.

What it does is to shake us awake. Swiss buildings are so well insulated that we’ve not had to turn the heating on in our apartment since we moved in at the start of January. Hard not to feel sluggish occasionally. And that’s why it seems natural to enjoy the sensation of the old dressing gown flapping around the knees first thing in the morning as I peer at the view.

For the last two weeks there’s been little to see. Unlike the snap here, taken during the sunny spell in January, it’s been grey and foggy, and anyway, that early in the day it’s still dark — just. Even on a fogless day, the only thing I can be certain of seeing at this time is the blazing lights of the Meilen ferry, far out on the lake.

Today I needed more reviving than usual. I normally sleep too well, but last night was one of those times I didn’t manage to reach unconsciousness. So this morning’s 6:30 balcony trip had extra work to do.

It wasn’t enough, even with a bonus minute of knee chilling. Time for kill or cure.

Within five minutes I was leaving the door of the block in my running gear, and 6 minutes later I was padding along the lakeside path, between the ducks scuttling across the water beside me, and the pleasantly foreign, clanking Zurich train. After 2 kilometres of passive plodding, I stopped and turned back. By the time I reached the point where I’d first joined the path, I was finished. As in all-in. The final 10 minutes or so, back up the steep hill, near the top of which I live,  were semi-walked. One day soon I’ll be able to run the hill, but for now, I’m happy with my 20-25 minutes of walkless jogging. Things are getting better.

The one moment of anxiety came just as I was finishing the running. Was I imagining it? Or did I feel the beginnings of a faint twinge in my left calf? This is the leg that gave me such trouble last year. I will need to monitor this carefully.

I could write a lot more, particularly about why I had a sleepless night. But it’s nearly midnight already, and time to try snatching back a few of those lost hours.