A mid-morning 30-minute run. M adapted to the reverse direction without any complaints, and, after the first 10 minutes or so, took off ahead.
Sunshine. Interesting clouds. With autumn and with our switching to clockwise direction, I noticed glimpses of more long-distance vistas opening up: all the way to the architectural giants: the Gherkin, the Shard and Canary Wharf. They look closer than they are. Spotted more black plastic-bag birds. Graffiti sprayed on the trunk of a plane tree (βBe Happyβ).
Felt good for the most part, despite lack of sleep, which really ought to have made it all a dreadful slog. Just a few moments when I started to doubt not so much my ability to complete the session but more whether I could do so while still feeling good about the run (I guess thatβs quite a luxury). But these moments seemed to pass - accept them, acknowledge them, let them go, and move on to think about something else. I didnβt take up Lauraβs invitation to step up my pace after the first phase, but nor did I need to step it down later on. Steady. Slow. That worked. Mind drifted off, maybe the result of insomnia. Was I sleep-running most of the final third?