It’s Sunday morning and my alarm wakes me. It’s 6.30am. To me it’s really 5.30am, thanks to the start of British Summer Time.
11 mile tempo run time.
After dragging myself out of bed I was instantly energised by the bright sun beaming low across the clear blue sky on to my face.
I started out on my warmup towards the park, my feet patting along with the impossible pace of the woodpeckers knocking in the trees. I changed up the gears settling into my goal marathon pace. Over the bridge and into the trees by the lakeside. I enjoyed the view of the super still lake as I ran its length completely alone. Until I noticed a motionless deer in the trees. I looked across, and as if pretending she wasn’t looking, she tossed her head in the opposite direction and scrambled away.
Pace check – a touch slow, but to be expected on the rough terrain. I pushed harder and got back on track. The rest of the run passed with relative ease and I soaked up the surroundings until I ran back into the village which was just starting to stir. The climbing centre were out and setting up there mobile wall ready to challenge the tourists. I was done and thankful for the inspiring change of scenery.
Rest day tomorrow. Shame.
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