I was a little late running today.
My clothes laid out the night before... a long-sleeved top, buff and hat, warming up on the radiator downstairs.. road shoes out too... The run today, was to be a 5K, a special run and one, like many of us, a virtual run for Remembrance Sunday. I had to run earlier than eleven, as Little Mum and family were coming for a family Brunch 
A treat to come
Exercised and togged up, I headed out into the skin-tingling chill of the morning; a brisk warm up, and it was brisk, the weather thermometer said 3 degrees, but the wind chill made it feel colder, and I gasped as I rounded the corner of the Close.
The sky, a pale duck-egg, just littered with pink-edged cloud, and the trees and hedges glowing with the luminosity of an Autumn day. Up to Seagull roundabout and ready to run. I chose this route deliberately, as I have had a tendency, just lately, to start my runs too quickly, ( hard to believe I know ), so, a gentle incline for the 1st K or so, would keep my pace down.
Up and over...the tall lamps, seagull-statue free this morning and the road beneath, quiet and car free. Up towards the turn and the hedgerows of the golf course, clipped, and topped and tailed, gave tantalising glimpses of the large trees dotted on the course. Silent except for distant bird song, and the waterfall trill of a small robin playing hide and seek in the under-hedge.
The air was so cold... I was finding, even with my buff, it was making breathing a little tricky, but my pace was steady and the leaves crunching satisfyingly underfoot, distracted me enough to settle.
The folk who have travelled my journey with me so far, know my thoughts ramble around as I run, and this morning was no exception. A slow pace gave me time to reflect on the day, and I was back in school again...O Level time, and the War Poets. A time when poems or prose had to be learned by heart for exam answers, ( no text books allowed in the exam room then :)), the lines from the poems studied at the time, drifted in and out of my head.
I have and always have had, a vivid imagination and the words that I read and absorbed at that time, stayed with me for many weeks, visions of the hell described by Wilfred Owen...the haunting images that floated around my mind and kept me sleepless for many nights..
“Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, ...”
in comparison with, to me, at that time,the almost idyllic images of Flanders Field and the rows of poppies...
"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly..."
As I ran. the thoughts drifted in and out of my head; of battles fought, victories won, lives lost, dreams destroyed, of heroes, heroines and hope.
Still keeping a steady pace, as I turned through the estate on the hill. Changing my route again slightly, I kept to the inclines and headed for a turning point.The Closes and Crescent, still curtained and quiet, cars garaged or parked, and everywhere a rose gold hue, touching the trees and gardens. I had determined not to look at my Garmin this morning..just to listen for the beep of the laps... and I kept to it. Turning off and downwards now.. the pace, relaxed and slightly faster....I was glad of the change...legs moving of their own accord... breathing steady, warmer now and feeling that first hint of my happy pace. Through a small walk way and onto the road leading back towards my starting point. I cut through one of the many wooded green spaces and as I ran, a small breeze , fluttered through the huge branches dislodging a shower of brown and gold leaves that drifted silently, to join their heaped companions on the floor.
I had seen no-one at all thus far, and returning down the hill to the roundabout, I was able to speed up a little more, rounding my feet, kissing the ground,( yes I tell myself to do it too ), shoulders relaxed and fists unclenched. Down past the big houses and across the road; silver birches, tissue paper-trunked , their leafless branches, twiggy fingered and stark, and over the roundabout, and down towards the station. The beauty of the morning, seeped into every part of me as I ran through Swan passage and along the track leading to the lane... Turning at the end, I retraced my steps and a quick glance at my timekeeper told me just about half a kilometre to go... A last little burst using the station car park to make the distance..almost ankle deep in the leaves from the huge trees, and the final beep. 5K... run completed.
A cool down walk, I was warm now, as I headed back up the hill gain and my turn for home.
A run full of reminiscences... a run that I enjoyed; it was, as ever, with me, slow and steady... and I thought as I walked, how I, and we, are, because of the few, able to run, freely and unfettered. I thought of love and of loss...and of the friendships we enjoy as companions on this running journey....and as I turned into my Close, the words of Rupert Brooke popped into my mind.
“ And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,In hearts at peace under an English heaven.”
Words written in sadness, yet echoing down through the years, to bring joy to my morning.
Peaceful running everyone.
I ran 8 minutes TWICE (!!!) 
Quest aided by deep thought of "Tiggers" "Baggy Pants" and "Knobbly Knees"
Wk7r3 💪🏃♀️🌈
