badger

to vineyard. westerly route this time. wind behind makes all the difference. foggy and freezing is trumped by free and loose. fear run will go bad as ones with good starts usually do. rough figure-of-eight, as drawn by drunk, around vineyard. long drag into teeth of wind is no fun. legs heavy up hills again. run's gone fairly bad. back into town. inspect chain. in slightly more light see it has no pointy bits nevertheless i still have bump and bruise and scar. if it must exist it should be lit or painted white, but it shouldn't exist, it is pointless. sit badger, sit, says woman to dog at bury hill gate. odd name for dog. what else could it be? go through alphabet like alan davies. look out for neat little reindeer of twinkly lights eating grass at foot of monkey puzzle tree - my favourite christmas light thing this year. no lights twinkling on its white wire frame. take high street home again. man is carrying largest pack of beverage cans i have seen.

hard

slightly earlier today. even colder. change as good as a rest, head for bury hill. arctic weather clearly making this harder but don't feel cold thanks to thick gloves over thin gloves. correction - foot is cold. hard ground is the worst thing, off-road is like road but bumpier. bury hill is pretty in frost, reminiscent of olde pictures of us training and sledging there. many people and dogs about including robin and rudi running, i think. stay for two big then two small laps. second big lap is more fun than first - looser? mildly meandering route home. firecracker makes me jump. add unnecessary little loop to take it over hour, pass ill-mannered boy. wilson kipketer is skinny too.

run for fire

husky know

shin

stress. late, getting dark. pause at top of drive. change as good as a rest, head for vineyard. looser than expected. absolutely freezing alleyway. slow when hit vineyard, slow more when hit hill. tight somewhere. hard frozen frosty ground. will be cold for a week, if it's frozen like this on saturday could need racing flats. mine still wearable? was that janet? do two tough laps before too dark. into town. ow ow ow. run into chain, with pointy bits, six inches off ground. miracle don't trip. blood. surprising pain. that's why they wear shin pads. take high street home. not so busy. think about putting angry sign on unbelievably stupid chain or related knee-high posts. won't.

cold

run? don't run? DON'T KNOW. properly cold. c&m&d here. could have tea and tunis cake instead. c&m&m&d coughing. compromise, go for shortest run for months.

empty road again. too fast. vaguely icy patches. breathless, as yesterday, after two minutes. hope it's the cold doing that. see one person in woods. coach road = people, again. too fast. firm. girl hat to socks in black and red stripes. time leaving coach road well, pair of dobermans ahead. empty fields, quite firm. slow up hills, tight calves etc. family carrying bags of stuff. the dad is beaming and his teenage daughter is not. too late twig they are carrying bags of rubbish that were left by no dumping sign. if pass them on way home might say well done. don't pass them. jam foot into unexpected rise in pavement for a painful last two minutes. bitter north wind.

fire

= freedom