I did the 5 miler this evening instead of last night in the hope that the chesty syndrome would have worn off (it usually takes 3 or 4 days). No such luck, though strangely, I did enjoy the outing nevertheless. The discomfort didn’t stop me until 18 minutes, an unusually long time – so perhaps it’s on its way out again. Once it starts though, I can’t shake it off. Tried running taking it very easy; I was almost running in slow motion at one point. Still no good.
Despite all this gloom, I found myself relishing the dark solitude of the lanes as usual. Tonight was cold but not frozen, and moonless. There was something intensely invigorating about the conditions, and I felt great later this evening, after a bath and one of M’s special bacon salads. Food tastes fantastic after running. I can gobble down salads without any dressing, enjoying – and being able to taste – every different leaf, and being able to sense the different textures. To sit there, slightly dizzy and coated in dried sweat, chomping hungrily through this stuff, is just wonderfully atavistic and primeval. I feel like a wild animal.
