On a frosty autumnal day, clear blue sky's and the remnants of a badly timed hangover - patience has run out. As my family while away a Sunday afternoon decorating the Christmas tree, I sit staring up to the hills out my living room window. I've felt it before, and it's here again in abundance; the countryside is calling.
I need to run.
Not a want, a desire or even a feeling of responsibility. I just have an impulse and I'm going to act on it!
Quick text to Stan, my training buddy and arrangements are made. It's only going to be a short one, no more than five miles. But the effect will be the same. Renewed vigour and motivation.
We set off on the usual incline, but much slower than usual in order to allow my lungs to suck in the required oxygen to sustain an effort. The sub-zero air feels tangible, almost painful as I breath into my chest. However it's not as bad as first anticipated and quickly I drop into a nice sustained trot. Nothing blistering fast, but just enough to get the blood pumping around my veins. This feels good!
On our return I assess my condition. My legs feel great, no adverse affects. My lungs however are heaving with effort and the chilling effect of the winters air. About half an hour later after some serious coughing action and things settle to normal.
I may have pushed that first run out a few days to early but I believe I've gotten away with it. Along with the odd relief that I didn't abstain from running for a whole week. (I went Monday to saturday run free).
Couple more days and I'll venture out again and assess things further.