Yesterday, as I have on many, many occasions over the years, I took friends with me on my run .
I take my friends with me, as, although I am, mostly, a lone runner, I really never run alone. My friends may not always know that they are running with me, but I know
After the draining days and nights of heat, the fresher, clearer air, here at the coast, has worked its magic. I have had a few blips over the last weeks and my strength is not yet back to where it should be, but, I am moving forward. So... after a sound night's sleep, and a gentle wakening, the morning, creeping in through the parted curtains, called to me.
A Summer sky, yes, but, the slightest hint of chill in the air; Autumn, like a pale ghost. a faint shadow, almost indiscernible in the copse of trees. The hedgerows with unmistakable signs of that season.... and a slight breeze, carrying secret whispers of the days to come.
I warmed up slowly, legs feeling a tad uncertain, and breath coming quickly... then, up and out onto the road, and a gradual sense of familiarity returning. I have struggled over the past weeks, mentally and physically; having made my way back to 10K, only to be knocked back again, twice, by illness and medication. But, I do know that I will get stronger and I will be where I wish to be, eventually.
So, this morning, my fairly, new friend Coach Bennett,( who was kind enough , not to mention my absence), agreed to run with me on a short, 20 minute Easy run. I chose this, simply because the very word, Easy, always makes me feel relaxed and confident before I even begin, and his assurances that easy, at the beginning of a run, really does mean, easy. I knew, I was going to be fine. I ran easy.
Foregoing the delight of running downhill to the next village, just so that I have the joy of coming back up, ( I am good at uphill), I decided to head down to the town. Laid out below me, a sight that I know almost by heart, I have, since I was 11, drawn it, painted it and photographed it a thousand times, and yet, I always see it, with fresh eyes. This morning, as my legs began to take control of the run, the scene was one of sunshine and reflection. The bay empty and serene. The sky and distant hills, taken straight from a seascape painting. Again, resisting the urge to move faster, I decided to turn down the fields and across to the shore; the tide was out and receding.
Controlling my pace down the very steep dry grassy bank., taking care not to turn an ankle, the dry thick clumps of grass, seemed to crack under my feet. The ground, sun-baked and hard, unyielding and unforgiving, At times like this, I do, try to remember I am 72 years old!
Down and through the safety gates and across the railway, alert and watchful, even though I know the times of the trains... and onto the beach, over the rounded stones, littered with pebbles, shells and bleached white-wood . Hard going, but the promise of a flat shore, gleamed ahead like El Dorado.
I do not seem to have had many chances to run on the shore here, on this beach, always missing the low tide, but this would be my second chance. I almost just stopped and sat down. It was breath taking.
CB's voice in my ear, murmuring support and encouragement, I was almost oblivious to it, yet just aware. My legs now feeling stronger and my body, so tired over the last few weeks, tingling with the new found power, gradually returning to the muscles...the shore just stretching away and the seamless shore line, endless against a Blake-ian sky!
The time on my run was ebbing away, as was the tide... I needed to focus.
CB had told me to think of a word; a word that I wanted to describe the feeling I wanted at the end of the run. I was to set it free, and run after it, trying to grasp it, hold onto it and make it my own.
I had a word in my head... Strong.
I set it free and it shot away, like a blur, away from me, a water-sprite dancing across the shimmering wet sand. The sand, reflecting every perfect detail of an almost unbelievable sky, and I followed.
Light feet and easy breathing, not fast and yet, with a surreal speed that lifted me along. And forward... and all the time, the word, Strong, just a fingertip's length ahead, yet still out of reach...
... we ran, until I was aware that my invisible friend was counting me down... so, I ran harder, only for that last minute... and finished with the word, and the feeling, in my body and my mind.
Strong.
I stopped running, I walked and cooled down and I thought of the run and the friends on here, who keep me running. Friends, who, no matter how many times I fall by the wayside, no matter how many times I feel like giving up and giving in, are there, by my side, supporting, encouraging, strengthening me and moving me forward, always.
I walked slowly back, over the stones across the railway line, up the field again, the steep bank seeming even steeper, and through the kissing gate and back onto the road.
A short run... a slow run, but a run that reaffirms how fortunate I am to be able to do this and more importantly, how fortunate I am also, to have friends who run with me.
Thank you
Floss x
Today, I ran through an oil painting
Houston we have a problem...
B5R3, but ran 9k
