The first S?
That one is, Sorry.
For my lack of support, over the last few weeks, in my other role as Mentor...I have neglected old friends shamefully and Newbies also. I am trying to get back on the case
I have, as a few friends on the forum know, been on the IC since January 6th. Not a running related injury...just a chance twisting movement, with Small Runner in Training on my hip..and the result... a trapped Sciatic nerve, and one of the most painful things I have ever endured... ( yes... a wimp I know:))
Four weeks on.. no runs... exercises twice a day...upped after visit to the Physio'.. Sleepless nights and Stretched nerves. Stir-crazy is an understatement. My Black Dog was not just lurking, he had moved in with me and settled down for the duration.
Thank goodness for the two days I care for SRiT.. we do walk for miles.. and walking was fine
So...Sunday...my favourite run day.... and this Sunday, extra Special.
Today... I felt, after three consecutive nights of sound sleep.. that I needed to go out. Just to see...if my legs still work and if the Snail could hit the trail again.
It was, fortunately, a beautiful morning, although, other than snow and ice, nothing would have stopped me. Gear laid out the night before..leggings on the radiator.. shoes underneath...and that wonderful butterfly feeling in the tummy... half trepidation, half excitement
Out into the sharp morning air... slightly overdressed,with layers, as I knew that I was going to be Sensible... and that Slow and Steady was gong to be taken to another level. As ever on Sundays... the houses on the Close, tight curtained and silent...the gardens, their hues richer, darker, somehow, earthier, than in the coming months; silent sleepers here also, beneath the earth. Corms and flowers, stirring, indolently, as the first tentative fingers of warmth, reach beneath the surface.
Out onto the hill and still walking ,still warming up. Walking very briskly...I was not alone... I had a friend with me... Laura... Yes.. Week 1 Run 1...if all went to plan.
Down into the village, the main road quiet, the newsagents open... the small deliverers of news, disappearing into the distance... laden with the Sunday Rags, Mags and associated inserts.
The first walk finished and the first run due... my heart was thumping inside my chest, slightly dry mouthed, and unsure..I have had injuries... not many... only two running related...and I have bounced back... this last spell on the IC has knocked me for six... and I was so unsure whether this was the right thing to be doing, on this Sunday morning.
However.. heading up past Rookery Wood...( still there McFitty ... ) the Rooks chuntering and complaining....a couple walking with a small golden Labrador puppy, heading for the fields.. a cheery good morning, as I run? trying to land lightly...barely lifting my feet from the ground. Before I know it... the run is ended... and the relief I feel is palpable.. I am still here.. my breathing is Steady and I am walking... out along the track to the field.. a couple of quick photographs...Snowdrops, higgledy piggledy, beneath the hedges. self-set and spreading... those first harbingers of Spring, fragile forerunners of the Spring to follow. My heart lifts, I already feel stronger, more alive...less anxious...out into the field and the muddy trail that awaits...
Sludge and slurry. Slipping and sliding as I teeter...inelegantly, Corps de Ballet, not Prima Ballerina, on the drier side of the track...a Blackbird, full throated and brazen, pulses out his song from the undergrowth beneath my majestic tree; huge, bare winter branches, out-flung in silent supplication to a listening sky. The runs and the walks follow... I slip easily back into the rhythm...listening to Laura... new tunes now, but still the calm reassurance of a voice that I know. I am remembering the way I ran C25K two years ago... and am in awe of how far I have travelled Over the Steam railway line... no iron giants awake at this hour... and over into the far field.
The sights, the smells and the sounds filling my whole being. The Spring Wheat is up a full five inches...brave green spikes detonating from the loamy earth with sharp, green ferocity...I stick to the track, muddy though it is, before turning and heading back towards the top lane. Up the side of the field.. the hedge thick and tangled. the sparrows busying around, and the tiniest wren, playing hide and seek with itself.... the ivy, thick green, winding and wandering over the trunks of the trees, clinging and covering, hiding the secret life of the roots beneath. Squeezing through by the big gate... I cannot climb over it right now, and it is too heavy for me to open...out onto the lane and towards the bridle path.
Unbelievably, the last run is here...and I am still standing... I run; my favourite phrase, kissing the ground with my feet, is in my head... this is not kissing the ground, it is simply skimming the ground, lips brushing a cheek.. I am trying to minimise any impact...and before I know it I am done, the run is over and I am to walk, as I cool down
A pensive walk back home... listening to my body, trying to feel any twinges or aches or pains... a hot shower awaits... Was this a Sensible thing to do... tonight will tell... but right now the only S I am feeling is....Satisfied