Sunshine at last!

I got out today for a quick run up the lane towards Garnett Bridge and then down to the river and back. Because it was short, I decided tomake it a fartlek session and did all the uphills as quickly as possible. Which hurt.
Still, it was worth it. After what seems an age of grey skies, as I left the sun was shining. True, it was drizzling as well, but the sun shone enough to create a huge semicircular rainbow in front of me. With that and the sheep all fluffy and white it was like running in CBeebies land.
The lane is still running with water from the rain of the last few days. I've been out twice since the major floods of last Thursday, and the water is still pouring off the fells, The lanes are rippling silver curtains of water, with gravel and hedge debris washed into furrows in the centre of the road. On Thursday, when the Kent overflowed its banks, we were virtually cut off. There was only one minor road in and out of where we live and, down the hill, the village was under water. It's not as bad as it is further north in Cockermouth, but that's no consolation to the villagers whose houses were inundated.

Eyeballs out

Went for my first 'night' run of the season a few days a go. I say 'night', it was more tea-time really. But it was dark enough to need a headtorch and I guess that's what counts. I did the trusty river loop, because I didn't want the adventure spoiled by falling into gullies or getting tangled in barbed wire I didn't know was there.

It was great. I actually quite enjoy night running. It's that mixture of scary and interesting all at the same time. I'm learning to have 'soft' feet, if that doesn't sound daft; trying to land gently and respond smoothly to the uncertainties underfoot. Blundered into some brambles though.

It was a gorgeous night, with plumes of breath lit up by the torch beam. I never realised that sheep's eyes light up in the same way as cat's eyes and I was followed by their bluey white ghostly look as I went past.

It's still ankle deep water at the first gate, so one's feet get nicely frozen on the way out and washed on the way back. All in all, a good little jaunt.

Smiley rating 8/10

Running is a triumph of the repetition of an individually insignificant action. Which brings me to knitting. The scarf proceeds apace!

It should be ready by summer.

I invite you...

... to look at this list and tick off those that are familiar to you...

1. Deciding you do need leggings for today's run
2. Deciding you should take gloves because you might need them
3. The feeling of frozen wet toes, from running through 10cm of water cascading across the path, is not unfamiliar
4. Ditto the slithery gait you adopt when running through cow-trod soggy fields
5. Thinking it'll be much better when the ground's frozen a bit
6. Stiles seem unusually slippery
7. You don't remember the air temperature making your lungs ache quite so much
8. You're glad you wore a hat

Yep, it's winter again! All these occurred to me on my little River Loop trot out today. I also ran at dusk; the sun dipped throwing shafts of light, of a lovely silvery-peach colour, from behind a massed bank of cloud, the world was falling quiet and it began to get dark enough for the lights in the houses on the hillside to look warmly inviting. It was wonderful. Mostly because I managed to get round before it chucked it down again.

And now I must go and scan the internet for guidance on how to knit. I went with Mags to this wonderful wool and fabric shop in Clapham (the Yorkshire Dales one) today. Rather than stand around gormlessly while Mags ferreted out fabrics and such like, I engaged the kindly lady who runs it in conversation, the upshot being that I've decided to knit myself a scarf for winter. At the moment I have wool, and needles (which are now made of straight-grain birch, not the grey metal like the ones my Mum used to have) and only the vaguest clue how to waggle them together to produce said scarf. I'll let you know how it goes.

Smiley rating for the run 7.5/10

It damn well IS about the bike!

There's something about cycling. I can no more go out for a gentle pootle on my bike than I can seduce Nicole Kidman (eh up, where's this going...). Take today. I meant to go out and just enjoy a nice easy loop through the village, up into Kendal, round the edge of town and back up the Shap road to home. With a heart rate of between 108 and 117 (60 -65% of max). What happened? Average heart rate 140, max 170. Somehow, every ride is like a time trial. It's just no fun unless the bike is going as quickly as possible. All the time. Is it just me?
I've had a very worky week this week, with not much opportunity to get out, so I'm feeling guilty and slobby. Maybe that's why my ride was so manic. I was angry with myself. Next week should be better as we're having a little home holiday. Mind you, these normally turn into vigorous training camps with informal schedules and such like, but this one will be a bit different as we're getting ready to have the old kitchen ripped out, a couple of walls knocked down and a new one installed. "Two weeks" says our (brilliant) builder. I have my doubts. Still, with a week off, I'm sure we'll get out. I wonder if Nicole's got a bike?

Cyclesmiley rating 8/10 (well, it was fun going 30mph downhill)

OMG, a PB!

Went for a lunchtime trot around the River Loop yesterday and stunned myself. I ended up doing it in 26.20, which, I think, is about 30s quicker than my previous best. I have absolutely no idea how it happened! All I can recall is having a sense of urgency because I needed to get back and work, so I ran each section between the stiles as a little interval. Not going mad, just pushing on. I guess the few seconds I saved each time gradually accumulated.

It was a lovely day for it. The breeze was chilly, but there was still some residual warmth in the sun. The sheep are all busily being made pregnant now, so they are going around with variously coloured buttocks (the ram wears a girdle-like contraption which bears an inky pad. He approaches ewe, mounts and, bingo, one bonk-stamped lady sheep), but there was a curious lack of birds. Perhaps they've all flown to the sun for the winter. The overgrown footpaths are gradually getting clearer as the vegetation dies back . I like this time of year. The gradual increase in light as the leaves fall is lovely yet the foul chilly stuff hasn't arrived. So a high smiley rating I think; for the PB and the conditions.

Smiley rating 9/10

My LSD for last week...

This is a deviation from the normal blog. Think of it as Smileywalker. I didn't do a long run this week. But we did do a long (6 hours) walk in the hills around Whinlatter.

We started up through the forest...

With tantalising glimpses of the open fell above us (Brown How is just up on the right)

From there we visited Whinlatter Top (below), Tarbarrel Moss, Ullister Hill, Lord's Seat, Broom Fell and Graystones before dropping down and back to the car.
Great day. Great skies. Cool and windy weather and a celebratory Green & Black's mini butterscotch chocolate back at the car. Now that's what I call long steady distance training!

Smiley rating 9/10

Time to get real

I came to a major decision on my River Loop today. I've decided not to go for the Highland Fling next year.
It's a question of time; the amount of time taken up running and the amount of time required for the long runs. I guess I just don't want to commit to 4 hour+ runs on a weekend. So I'm scaling back my ultra ambitions and am going to refocus on doing more frequent, shorter events next year. More local, smaller-scale fell races for example. That way I can make my long runs a maximum of, say, 2 hours and combine them with shorter midweek runs, speed sessions, hills etc. It also gives me time to train by not running, something I'm getting increasingly interested in. I'm going to bike more. Gym more. Swim more. Mix it up. Find the fun.
I didn't expect to have such a major think on the run today. It was too beautiful a day for all that soul-searching! It just happened. After yesterday's rain the river was much bigger than just a couple of days ago. The sheep were just as dumb though, but it's getting into tupping time. So the rams are getting interested and the ewes, wary. I ran OK, with the last vestiges of my cold trying to climb out of my lungs, and the air was wonderfully crisp.

Smiley rating 7/10