Up with the Dawn Chorus
Being partially deaf I don't tend to hear the really high-pitched birdsong. However, the wood pigeons with their 'coo cooo coo cu cu' can always be guaranteed to have me pushing my head under the pillow.
Not this morning, however. By 6.30 a.m. I was running round Scout Dike Reservoir, enjoying the cooler air. It seems a long time since I ran in anything remotely resembling a breeze. The weather forecasters are assuring us that by 10 o clock it's going to be baking, so it was a case of now or never.
It was beautifully tranquil, a bit too early for the dog walkers but not for the handful of anglers who were already casting their lines. I'm always reassured by the presence of the anglers somehow. I wouldn't want to be running anywhere too deserted. On I ran, past the windmills, the cattle, the geese, over wooden bridges, along the slightly undulating path, ducking the low-hanging branches, dodging the odd stinging nettle, trying not to swallow too many flies.
It was just a 5K. By the end of it, my thigh niggle was making its presence felt again, but overall it felt good. After my hellish race in the heat at the weekend and the disappointing DNF, it was something of a relief just to get out there again and prove to myself I could still run. As we headed back to the car I felt rather envious of the anglers, being able to stay there a little longer, whereas I had work to get back to, but the job was done, the legs still worked (just about) and I'd been lucky enough to spend some time in the sort of setting that reminds me why it is I run in the first place.
Not this morning, however. By 6.30 a.m. I was running round Scout Dike Reservoir, enjoying the cooler air. It seems a long time since I ran in anything remotely resembling a breeze. The weather forecasters are assuring us that by 10 o clock it's going to be baking, so it was a case of now or never.
It was beautifully tranquil, a bit too early for the dog walkers but not for the handful of anglers who were already casting their lines. I'm always reassured by the presence of the anglers somehow. I wouldn't want to be running anywhere too deserted. On I ran, past the windmills, the cattle, the geese, over wooden bridges, along the slightly undulating path, ducking the low-hanging branches, dodging the odd stinging nettle, trying not to swallow too many flies.
It was just a 5K. By the end of it, my thigh niggle was making its presence felt again, but overall it felt good. After my hellish race in the heat at the weekend and the disappointing DNF, it was something of a relief just to get out there again and prove to myself I could still run. As we headed back to the car I felt rather envious of the anglers, being able to stay there a little longer, whereas I had work to get back to, but the job was done, the legs still worked (just about) and I'd been lucky enough to spend some time in the sort of setting that reminds me why it is I run in the first place.
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