OK, so I am still on the IC, but I thought I’d write a virtual run report instead!
The dawn is breaking, it is about 2 degrees as I leave the house, closing the door gently behind me. The whole village is still sleeping. I begin my warm up walk and arrive at the bench on the green in memory of a great friend, who died far too young. It is time to begin my run, so I jog on the spot as I get to the roadside, but there are no cars, so I run across the road. As I run down along the pavement, the leaves are soft underfoot as opposed to crunchy. It must have rained a little in the night, but there are no puddles to be seen.
I cross the road, go down a little hill, under a railway bridge and along a lane to the bridge that still makes me laugh at its warning “maximum weight limit 2 tonnes”. Well, I know I have been on the IC now for a while, but I think I am still OK to run over it. Upstream, a pair of beautiful white swans are bowing their heads at one another, creating a lover’s heart shape. Downstream, the weeping willows are bowing their branches towards the surface of the water. There is a little mist hovering above the river this morning. It looks quite magical.
I run along to a crossroads and turn left. After a while I see the now familiar popcorn like buds on a bush on my right, and the beautiful red berries on a darker green bush on my left. Then the gorgeous chestnut mare and grey walk down to greet me. This time I come prepared. Good morning, I say quietly. I have brought you something this time. I fumble in my right hand pocket for an apple quarter. I stretch my arm out, offering the apple to the chestnut mare. She comes forward, bends her head and eats hungrily. Then I stroke her muzzle, she has a beautiful flash of white there. I give her a pat on the neck and shoulder and then take a couple of steps to my right to greet the grey. “Good chap,” I say, “ladies first. Here you go, boy.” I hand him another apple quarter. Give him a stroke and then bid them farewell.
On I run to the attractive brick and flint bridge. The water is rushing along the stream underneath, sounds like it is clapping for me. I run over the bridge, but then turn in as wide a semicircle as I can to retrace my steps back again.
I notice the massive white mansion on my right, proudly standing, surveying the valley below. I reach the horses, give them another piece of apple each and then continue on my way. I turn right at the crossroads and run over the bridge where the swans are now feeding, taking it turns to bend their elegant long necks into the river to eat the reeds.
All is calm, all is quiet. The sky is clear, it is getting lighter, but still the village sleeps.
I run up the little hill, it’s perhaps 60 paces, maybe more, I haven’t counted, to be honest, to the top. I have a lot of energy this morning, so I attack it with gusto. I cross the road, back to the pavement littered with soft leaves. Cross back over to the village green, pass the bench dedicated to my friend, and smile at the view of the church, the trees, the houses around the green, all asleep. I run through the kissing gate, up the road, cross over the High Street and begin my warm down walk back home. It wasn’t my fastest run, nor my slowest, it wasn’t my longest, nor my shortest, but it was unique.
Happy running everyone!
xxx
20 km. Tick.
Oh what a night! 5k - done!
Week 9 Run 1...Sneaky little incline!
Xmas morning drivers
