Last week was rather humdrum insomuch as I can't remember doing or seeing much that hadn't happened before. Normally, I enjoy repeating things, running routes I've run a hundred, or even a thousand, times over the last 34 years.
|My 1,000th plus run over Castle Hill (Click to enlarge)|
At different times of day, in different lighting, at different times of year, there is almost always something new. The last seven days seemed to be the exception.
I was feeling a little off colour, as green as that bird on the feeders, as if someone had switched the power off or sneaked a slow release sleeping pill into my evening glass of wine. The world passed by in a blur.
|Grimwith on a dreich morning|
Our run round Grimwith left me cold and unmoved. In the early hours it was cold and grim, what the Scots would call dreich, and before long it began to spot with rain. "Let's just get this over with" I thought.
Surprisingly for the time of year there was an almost total absence of bird life, no pewits wheeling around the sky, no mallard squawking or teal whistling across the water: except, as we ran to the finish along the dam wall, a gaggle of greylags cheered us with their noisy fly past.
All in all I ran a total of 13 miles.
Unlucky for some...