Whoever said...

...the hardest steps in running are those from your bed to your kit couldn't have been more right on Sunday. The easterly wind was battering the roof tiles, the weather forecast was full of snowy doom and the duvet was extra snuggly. But, as always, a certain stubborness takes over, and the thought of not getting out, not training and not being ready when the decent weather comes, seems worse than the act of actually doing it.



So I headed out, just a 7 mile easy run today. Because of the strength of the wind I elected to stay low rather than go high on the hills, and I went along the River Kent towards Staveley. It was lovely underfoot because the ground was part frozen , and it was close-cropped by the sheep (Thank you, sheep). They were wisely huddling in the lee of the walls and hedges, their grubby, greeny-grey fleeces being parted by the wind to reveal surprisingly white roots - a sort of reverse peroxided blonde.



On the outward leg, I found a new route through the woods. I love the feeling of exploring as you run. You sort of know where you are (with a river to follow you can hardly go wrong) but you're never quite certain if the footpath you're on is going to veer off in an unexpected direction. This one skirted the sewage works (the romance of running, eh) and rejoined the riverside to my halfway point. Then it was back, flogging against the wind all the way, to well deserved porridge and that feeling of self-satisfaction you get when you've done your run and you've got the whole of Sunday stretching ahead.

Smile rating for this run 7.5/10