I wasn’t in the mood for running this morning. After a gruelling drive on Friday night back from North Yorkshire to Cornwall I was too tired for Parkrun on Saturday.
My legs still felt stiff this morning but I dragged on the running togs at 6.30 to do my 6km circuit at first light and set off.
Shin splints, drizzle, a stop for a tractor hauling slurry (poo!), missed my first check point by 30 seconds, a snooty young runner in the opposite direction too self-absorbed to return a Good Morning to an old fart, and turned my ankle over in a pothole at 5km. But I kept on, checking my cadence with Mrs Garmin and feeling good to be alive.
Result: 3 minutes quicker than my normal time and only a whisker over my PB.
What’s the moral of this? Just do it, I suppose. That’d make a good advertising slogan. 🤔 ✔️