Re: Bob's Bits.
Entry:-080315
My arms swung clumsily at my side, legs had a mind of their own, and my pace was laboured and erratic, not at all like the honed running machine of recent runs. I had just set off on my nine and a half mile Sunday escape to the country, but style and pace had deserted me; I struggled through the village and out on to the quiet country road, feeling more comfortable I began to disengage my mind and get down to business. Clouds filled most of the sky and the sun had risen and taken shelter behind them, a breeze gently pushed me along, it felt like a mild spring morning. I slipped through the gate and padded on the soft grass of the canal bank, the water, slightly rippled, lapped the sides and only distant birdsong broke the silence. I reached the little row of houses at the end of the canal bank section and as I passed, I noticed green buds appearing on the South facing Hawthorn hedges; not such a bad run after all.
I shuffled through the gate and on to the road, over a river bridge and once again the road stretched away into the distance and the wild countryside. My attention was drawn to the discarded items adorning the verges and dykes, I noticed pots, with bulbous peaty clumps spilling out, the plant had been severed close to the surface; I had come across these before scattered around the countryside, I believe they are marijuana plants, having had their leaves harvested and now of no further use. It is a sad fact that in these peaceful little villages there is a criminal presence waiting to make a fast buck out of someone else’s misery.
I’m on the same road that, as a schoolboy, I was made to run the cross country: I say ‘made’ because I hated it, being the smallest in my class it was a struggle to keep up, and I would inevitably finish last. So to escape the torture, my Mum would write me notes to be excused due to some fictitious life threatening ailment. Looking back though; nobody taught me to run properly, by adopting a pace that would see me to the end. If only my old PE teacher could see me now, I’d like to think he would be proud. I reach the point where the Cross Country course turns off the road and joins the riverbank, snaking it’s way back to school.
I turn for home, there are two remote farms on the left, and as I pass the first I can see a large black dog sat beside an open gate: It is a bad tempered Labrador, and we have locked horns before. I attract his interest and he comes bounding over accompanied, today, by two other dogs. He has not come for a stroke as he bares his teeth and snarls, trying to get behind me; the other two approach barking, I shout angrily and keep facing the black dog, he takes no notice, I stop running but maintaining a walk and still facing the black dog walk slowly backwards raising my voice, this time he responds and backs off, but the other two come round to the other side snapping at my heals, I turn and charge at them, shouting orders loudly, they appear momentarily taken aback and I make my escape. I glance behind and they grudgingly return down the lane back to the farm. Feeling vulnerable and shaken, I continue with my run.
Tiredness suddenly engulfs me, and my legs feel like lead, but I dig in, there will be no rest until I arrive home. With a mile and a half to go my breathing is heavy and beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. The decision to wear a running top was a bad one. With a mile to go, and exhausted legs begging for rest, I count down the distance left until I can stop. It takes forever to run the last mile through the village, but I reach my gate, and slow to a walk, stopping the watch I find something to lean on. Of the three times I have run this course [post heart attack] this has been the fastest, knocking almost three minutes off last weeks time. Now the autopsy: Did I misjudge the pace? Did the heat get to me? Was I affected by the angry dogs? Who knows, but sat here writing this feels like I completed a Marathon this morning. Time to recover before Tuesday’s run…… But one thing drifts into my thoughts: How do you know when you are having a good run, if you never have a bad one?