Greyness is magical.
I ran this morning.
Back in Wales... beautiful, wild, wet and wonderful.
Well; after a really exciting day getting here, I woke later and ran a tad later. A slower journey here than expected, also, due to heavy snowstorms over the mountains, meant we arrived a tad more weary, after concentrating very hard on the driving!
But, a sound night's sleep and I was all set. Running gear all set out to warm, the night before... and a minimum amount of faffage and I was off.
No real idea of how far... but a 30 minute was what I would have liked. I took CB along with me , well, it was the first run back here since before Christmas.
Setting out, I was surprised, that after such a glorious start to the day... with a sunrise straight from the palette, to find myself running under a seamless grey sky. Heading out down towards the next village, the mountains I am so used to seeing, were hidden. No glimpse of them as they remained beyond sight, wrapped around by misty arms.
My footsteps echoed in the silence of the Sunday morning... the sheep and their lambs are in the lower fields, Easter and the coming of the visitors, a few weeks away...all seemed still and quiet. For once I was only half listening to the voice in my ear. My thoughts wandering away, over towards those hidden dragon-haunts. Friends who run with me, were tucked into my heart-pocket and the worries of the last few weeks shed behind me, as I ran down to the gate.
Determined not to push myself too hard, when I know my body does not need it, I turned and made my way back up. Past the entrance to my site and down towards the little town.
Friends on here who know me, know how I love this place; with the castle guarding the small houses beneath its stone walls the sea, ever present, ever constant yet ever changing. This morning as I make the brow of the hill, and look towards the town, the whole view is like a blurred painting, the castle indistinct and faded, the sea seeping into the grey veil that hung over the town. I paused, a photograph... I have hundreds and each one, yes each one is different. Today was different.
I was running easy...those of you who have CB as a running companion, know better, than to do otherwise. My breathing was controlled, my face relaxed and my steps light. As I ran, I looked , everywhere.
Grey is a most amazing colour... having the power to give and take, also. Da Vinci was reputed to have said that ..” a grey day provides the best light... “ and so today it seemed. Even as the landscape appeared muted, so also did it seem to stand clear of the fog and mist...or was that just how I perceived it.
Sounds muted, colours dulled, and me running through it all. The time was passing without me realising it... through the town, shops closed, as I ran on and turned down to the station; into the small area that leads to the allotments, feet tapping gently along the boardwalks above the damp marshy area underneath. A small area for Nature now and beautifully managed by the Community... but today I could have been in the Everglades, stark trees and branches rising from the murky depths. Faintly uneasy, the mist fires my imagination, I retraced my steps, past the playing fields and the silent school and out into the little square above Lon Bach.
Out now, onto Castle street...the sky seemed to be getting lighter, the castle turrets clearer above me as I run down and along Tanygrisiau Terrace and turn down by the cafe towards the sea. The sky is lighter, I can hear muffled voices... and as I make the Esplanade I see a group of folk huddled in the shelter of the sea wall. They are not figments of an overactive imagination, they are real. The Woolly Hatters are there to swim... although this morning a chill wind which has caught my face as I run, seems to be making them slightly reluctant to take the plunge. I am conscious that I have slowed down a lot, no reason other than spending too much time gazing about. I put a little pressure on myself as I run to the end of the Esplanade. CB has finished his run a while back, I need to get back for breakfast, and there is still the hill to run back up.
I am running well, steps steady, breathing easy and I stop my watch. 4K only, but I am happy. Now for that run back up the hill . Just about 0.5K...picking the pace up, as ever, I run a tad faster and make the top in good time... as usual the pace feels familiar and friendly, along the straight and back home, to see Mr OF watching for me from Cartref Mor.
My steady build up from Christmas seems to be working, my chest feels clear and my legs feel strong.
The grey morning held a magic that was almost tangible; a run in a shadowy landscape, a dream world where my thoughts run freely with me, unhampered by the sharper lines of a sunlit day.
I am content.
week3run1 ✅. 3 x 17 mins with 1 min walks. 
How did your parkrun or (not)parkrun go?
