I am beginning to wonder if the weather gods are conspiring against me. As I dragged my lazy bum out of bed this morning, the weather was dull but dry. I made porridge and took it back to bed. I pottered a bit (read: looked for a clean t-shirt to wear on my run) and as I decided it was time to head out the door, the worst kind of rain started falling. You know the kind – the rain that is just miserable and light but all encompassing and therefore makes you very soggy. I started grumbling to M, and then I muttered the words “maybe I would do better off with the gym”. The words fell out of my mouth before I could really understand what I was staying.
I hate running on the treadmill. I hate the experience of landing in the same place, on the same surface, to the same sounds (the whirring noise that is punctuated by the squeak of the runner landing. Every. Single. Step) with the red LED lights shining my pace. I hate the complete lack of fresh air, and that I turn a genuinely scary shade of crimson. I loathe the lack of anything interesting to look at. Sure, there are TVs built into the treadmill, but I cannot run looking down (especially when doing so gives me motion sickness from seeing the belt move around in my peripheral vision).
Don’t get me wrong, I think treadmills have their place. That place is for short runs where the weather is truly awful (and I am talking neck breaking sheet ice conditions), but as a general rule, they’re just not for me. I came to the swift conclusion that just over 8km on the machine would probably have deprived me of my sanity.
And so, with grim determination, I headed outdoors. I did swing by the gym to get the cancellation form though, as I just can’t see me going back any time soon.
To add insult to injury, my Garmin wouldn’t lock onto any satellites for what felt like a soggy era. When it did eventually find one, I pootled off for my 5 mile long run. As I huffed and puffed up the hills, I realised that the wind wasn’t too strong, and for that, I was incredibly thankful. I’d even managed to keep relatively dry trainers for the first 2 miles.
I ran into one of the lanes, which proved to be both a blessing and a curse. It is a single track road, and used as a short cut by many. I thought that lunchtime on a Sunday may mean that it would be less busy. I had misjudged. While it was annoying to have to stop every couple of minutes and excuse myself into the gutter, after those hills, it was also quite nice to catch my breath (and take a photo).
As I took this photo and noticed the mud just in front of where I was stood, I hoped that the people who ran in the cross country race at Killerton today had a slightly less squidgy day for it (though I doubt they did). Rather them than me!
Then it was on the mostly downhill stretch to home. It passed rather uneventfully, though I started getting annoying with my Yurbuds, which decided that my ears were no longer the place to be. I may have to dig out my over the ear headphones for future wet runs, at the Yurbuds don’t live up to their ‘never fall out’ fame in the wet.
Pesky Mile 2 scuppered my average pace times, as the other mile splits were pretty decent (for me), and I actually managed negative splits for the first time ever.
I arrived home, soggy, out of puff, but glad that I went out and that I didn’t go to the gym instead.
Yoga for me tomorrow – need to stretch out a couple of muscles on my left side.