After my traumatically rubbish run (if you can even call it that) on Tuesday I was determined to have a good one on Thursday. I set my alarm for 6am but ended up waking up at 5am. I finally rolled out of bed at 5.30am to get ready for my run. I don’t really resent the early morning runs at all as I find it the best time to be out and about. The roads are quiet and you usually catch glimpses of urban foxes prowling for open bins. And you start your run in the dark and end it after the sun has come up – if I time it cleverly I will be in Regents Park when you realise that you can see without the streetlights. The park is often covered in this low, magical mist and all you hear is the geese and ducks. And me panting with my ragged lungs of course. Oh, and one time I heard a runner FARTING on the other side of the road. Sorry – did that destroy the beautiful image I just painted. Just to demonstrate that despite it being Central London it is very quiet.
My trick for the early runs is to have everything in the bathroom ready to go. Absolutely everything from the running clothes to runners, tissues and headphones. And I always try to get up early enough to give myself plenty of time on the loo. (SORRY! TMI!) Well you guys know how it goes – if you want to have a good run (where you are not being chased by The Gingerbread Man (GBM)) you really want to be able to go. Except sometimes it is just not happening. Like on Thursday.
I gave up and hoped for the best. I set off on my run in the freezing morning and took the long route where I have already run for almost 6 km before I enter the park. The short route is 1,5 km to the park from our house. By the time I reached the park GBM was firmly snapping at my heels. Crap, I thought appropriately. But I kept on running. I know from experience that the cramps come and go – you just need to try and ride (run) them out and be very very careful not to relax, if you know what I mean… My plan had been to run around 14-15km but by the time I came to my “short way back” exit from the park that plan had gone out of the window (I really wanted to say “flushed down the loo”). I was racing home on the tidal wave of the stomach cramps. I would get one and think I will never make it home in time. Then it would go and I thought “ah, I might as well go for a bit longer”. In the end I did 12.6 km run, not the best distance but I made it to the toilet in the comfort of my own home which is worth celebrating! It was very nearly a very shitty run (sorry, couldn’t help it).
In other news, I managed to avoid the snow/sleet/slush that we had for most of the Thursday. These pictures were taken yesterday, 4th of April. Any news on when the weather will get warmer?