Up and out early this morning. I always run early, but this morning it was earlier, thanks to a neighbour’s house alarm going off at 4-45 a.m. so about 45 minutes later, I was ready for my run.
Out on the first run of Week 3 of a new plan I am doing to improve my 10K, and with, also, a slight feeling of trepidation as the running pattern is quite different from my normal Sunday run. But, as ever, slow and steady does it, and I headed out into the morning.
Sunday is my favourite running day. I like the sense of peace, the slow start to, (for some), a work-free day, the curtained windows, the silent sleepers; no sense of urgency anywhere. As I headed out into the Crescent, the lightening sky gave a hint of the day to follow. Out and up the hill, a brisk walk to get the muscles well warmed up before starting a very gentle uphill run. Turning at Seagull roundabout, (you would need to read my other posts!), the white feathered sentries absent this morning, and back down the hill. A change of route this morning, as my run needed to be longer, so back into the Crescent, right around, past the gardens, showing the signs of growth to come. The lawns mowed, the clipped edges and the newly dug borders, some with neat plantings of early bedding and Grenadier tulips, red-faced generals, standing straight and tall in regimented rows. On around the bend and then another uphill turn through the Midway Drive. I was glad when I rejoined the hill into the village, my legs feeling a tad heavy, at the unusual challenge of a steepish hill at this stage of the run.
As I ran down the hill, my feet echoed on the pavement; high, high above, flotsam and jetsam clouds floated, rose-tipped, in a pale sea-blue sky and the sun, a welcome visitor, already giving some warmth, even at this early hour. There was no –one around, the houses , the gardens silent and still, but the Newsagent’s shop, under new ownership now, at the bottom of the hill, open- doored and welcoming, for any early news seeker. Through Swan Passage at the back of the station, crossing the bridge over the stream, the ducks still asleep under the road bridge, and up onto the empty main road into the village. No traffic, no people, no children, just me, and the birds, flitting back and forth in the early sunshine.
I always try to remember things I learned during C25K, and beyond; the movement of my feet, the landing, and the relaxing of face, shoulders, and arms. Head up, running tall and this morning, everything, wonderfully, coming naturally. On into the village and up the hill towards the school…. The church, empty also, the bell in the tower silent, and not, as yet calling the faithful to prayer.
I always have a smile running up this hill… when I started C25K two and half years ago, running up here in the chilly darkness of the long winter mornings, I could barely move faster than a snail…. And now, with no effort I am at the top and not even out of breath. 
No sense of smugness, just sheer delight Then I continued, turning along the walkway past the school, the Hawthorn hedge thick now, the Yellow play Galleon becalmed on the black tarmac ocean. Through the small estate and out onto Old Road. The hedges here are thick and green, mouse- eared leaves are squirrel- tufted now, and the lacy-gloved foliage of the tall trees, seems to glow…the small birds darting in and out, bouncing in the air in front of me, show-off speedsters, mocking my pace, trilling their derision as I plod along. I have, in my head. the timings for my plan… so no stopping for photograph taking this morning. Turning at the end of the lane I head up towards the Steam railway. One gate already open and the distance clang of metal on metal, indicating that the engines will be in steam later today.
I squeezed through the gap by the field gate opposite; I have on past runs climbed this gate, (it is too heavy for me to open), but not this morning. I ran along by New Copse, not so new now,and with some relief, down the big field to the far field gate. The sky a dark blue now… empty of clouds, and the far distance, sharp and clear, the yellow fields stretching away in front of me as I run down; barely resisting the temptation to fling out my arms and hurtle to the track way.
I did stop here, very briefly, to check my time… because of the pace variances needed in this run, this was an occasion, (and very, very rare for me, as a true exponent of, slow and steady)…where I wanted to make a certain time for my last K. So, because I wanted, as Laura would say, to “Finish in style”, I took advantage of the hard,dry, flat track through the crop field and ran… steadily; the heavy, thick scent of the crop, the sound of the birds, my feet moving on the dusty dryness, towards the crossing over the Steam Railway track, and down the buttercup field, ( dandelion clad only currently). towards the track leading back to the lane. Past my huge majestic tree, I had no time to stare this morning as I moved under the huge branched arms, and out along onto the seaside- scented, shingle track; out onto the lane, and back with a final burst, down to the railway station.
I sat on the wall outside the Veterinary surgery, getting my breath back… the bricks sun-warmed beneath me…and I thought… as I often do, of the friends on the forum…old and new...those who have been with me from the start of my running adventures and those who are only just discovering the wonders for themselves. Then, although it was pleasant sitting there, it was time for slowish walk home, back up the hill, exchanging a cheery greeting with just one person with a dog, heading towards the newsagent’s shop. The day was still young and I had enjoyed a great run.
I have become infamous for my rambles on the forum,(friends on here who know me, know it is what I do…) I have not rambled for a while… but I just wanted to share my morning run.
Running for me, is an ever-changing journey… not really about speed or distance, although they happen, with patience, quite naturally…it is just about enjoying.
PS
Benjamin Franklin obviously rose early
PPS
Those newbies on here, who didn’t know me, do now; so you can, if you wish avoid my rambles in future
