The entire point of this morning’s run was to enjoy it - to thrill in it, even. And I did enjoy and thrill; I loved every moment. I ran solo in the nearby park just as the sun rose - my first time here at such an early hour. It was quiet, but with enough people about to feel perfectly safe.
Having extended to 6k on Sunday on top of last Friday’s 5k, I wanted to pull back my distance to keep my progress steady. I could have continued, and would have loved to, but I didn’t want to invite injury. I reined in the temptation.
The light was glorious as I arrived and once the sun was up, dramatic with shadows long. There were glimpses of the city centre towers gleaming in the pinkish sun. Birds were very active: parakeets were invisible but squawking loudly overhead; gulls, crows and magpies were on the fields. The ground was hard enough to run on, so for the first time in a while I was off paths and pavements, running on the grass trails. I thought a lot about the semi-frozen earth and how it felt. Just a few patches remained too soft and needed to be skirted.
A man struck out purposefully across the grass with a simple fold-up pushchair in front; the wheels squeaked, adding to the birds’ chorus. Why he took this direction was not clear: it offered no obvious shortcuts; he didn’t appear to have a dog. In the distance, canine play got out of hand and I could see the gaggle of owners struggling to break up a fight as the growls and yelps drifted across the park. At the top of the rise, an elderly woman sat in her wheelchair, watching the sunrise; on my second circuit, she had turned to face in the opposite direction to avoid being blinded by the light; she could now observe the sun striking buildings and avenues of London planes. A young female runner and I exchanged smiles and greetings as we crossed paths along the stretch with the juvenile trees. An empty passenger train passed by as I ran the embankment trail.
My attention, however, was primarily on the pleasures of running, and just feeling happy and grateful for it. I also focused on my breathing and posture, reflecting on variations. Lifting of and from the hips and raising the sternum was my main thing today. I think I’m generally ok here, but even a few minor tweaks made a difference. I took in a short but steep incline towards the end. I’d refashioned my usual hat as a buff and used another fleece hat on my head. The buff kept me cosy without overheating, but using it over my mouth and nose just steamed my specs. Gloves and hat remained worn throughout, unusually, but I was absolutely fine with two light top layers and my tracksters.
I’ve noticed that my settled steady pace seems to be around 7:34 mins/km. Although I corrected it, I again took off too quickly at the outset. It really doesn’t feel that way. I think I need that transition from walk to run to be a more focused moment: a place to gather, centre, breathe and set off exactly the way I’d prefer. It’s all a bit chaotic at present, and can get the run off to a less-than-ideal start. It’s not awful (or not usually), but there’s definitely room for improvement there. (I can see a Garmin beckoning... just to evade all the phone-fiddling, fumbling, stashing and zipping at both the beginning and end of the run.)
May 2021 eventually bring us a much kinder year - the start is not looking promising. Still, I can thank 2020, terrible as it has been, for bringing me to running.
Lovely 7k mostly trail run, 2 degrees, wind chill -2 but brilliant with sunshine:
Socks and other thoughts
