no disco

eaterie’s a-frame sign recumbent again. needs a stake down the middle. through woods crankily. spiky tree lying across main path. pause in dead end lane. bury hill? all right. aim for the sun. puppies on sunny little hill. poster on gate at top of private road. 80s disco fever. forget the 00s and the 90s and step back... running is my dancing. secret dancing. not all the time. not now. relieved to get to bury hill. off-road and downhill for a bit. through and out. past lake. up track towards downs. bloke ahead tottering through swamp. runner. not just me who does that. totter through swamp. runner crossing railway line. want to push climb but don’t want to overtake up steep narrow path. wait for a while at bottom. run up a bit, jog back down to bottom and go again. up, with no uncivilised overtaking. enough up. down pilgrims' way. close on runner. slow down, nearly at end of way. runner stops. starts again. flipping heck. overtake slowly. listening to i-pod. through park. ridiculous lights ablaze in car park by church. lake full to the brim. moorhen balanced serenely on submerged wooden edge. achilles hurts. run has felt submerged and wooden. slow finish doesn’t even have usual slow finish hand shaking, side to side head lolling, alternate shoulder shrugging, and arm waving - another secret dance. still in a rut but change of scenery was all right.