Yesterday, I woke up tired and by lunch time had decided that I wasn't going to go running. Content with my decision, I settled down for an afternoon of relaxation. After dinner, the guilt started to set in but I was held up by the fact that I had just eaten a big dinner. So, it was dark by the time I got out the door, 14 hours after I thought I was too tired. I need to start ignoring how I feel. All tiredness is relative.
Anyway, this was my first night run in a while and it was hauntingly beautiful. There was something hypnotic about following the circle of light made by my headlamp. I was soon in deep thought with a calm clarity which so often evades me from day to day.
My legs felt great and it was one of those rare occasions where I could have run and run all night. As I moved further away from home, the lights from all the villages down the valley looked small and lonely. I kept on imagining monsters in the dark but it was just sheep and cats on the end of shining eyes. At least I think it was. The only sign of human life was a man carrying a cat down the road in the dark. Seemed oddly suspicious. Cat burglar, maybe.
Today was going to be a tougher sort of run. I realised this as I stepped outside and a wave of heat knocked me for six. This was my first fell run in a while and the initial climb up Conwy Mountain was hard. As always, the view from the top was amazing and I had a great time on the descent. I love blasting down past the walkers at speeds I would never be able to sustain on the flat. My legs were feeling good and strong but I was suffering in the heat. Luckily, I had plenty of water with me.
I am still struggling with fitness on the ascents. Only one way to get better: keep running/walking/crawling uphill. I'll get to the top in the end. From the tiredness and lethargy of yesterday morning, this has been a wonderful weekend of running.
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