The transition from running at night in the dark and now in the light has arrived quite suddenly. It seems that routes are not just routes, a path plotted on a map or a destination to arrive at. The light evenings have had cause to interrupt my routine. Wednesday nights, for example, I couldn't face the prospect of running up the by-pass, as I have been doing for weeks, but couldn't work out why. Sat at work trying to visualise my run, all I could see was roadside rubbish, faces of people in cars, trucks belching smoke.
Nope, not appealing at all. It would seem that darkness can hide all of this, make the route into a journey and quite a different experience. I've had a troubled week of running around. Last week, after ParkRun, I found a hilly 14 miles on Sunday taking last weeks mileage to 48. Unsurprisingly, I was proper knackered and couldn't raise any kind of enthusiasm for a lite Monday loosener, as is normally the case. And then came the guilt, and the doubt, and the dark thoughts...and the pressure of Sundays impending Lymm 10k. 
What a nonsense. So on Wednesday I had a 'sod-it' moment, and headed for the hills. What a delight. The ground was powdery dusty dry in places, leaving a small dust clouds with every step. But then up in the trees of Macc Forest, there was still snow on the ground. The smells were great, freshly cut trees, that real 'forest pine' smell that the 'others' would associate with a clean bathroom. The running was hard, uphill, but in complete isolation. Then a noise, rustling in the trees ahead.
Deer...watching me watching them, trying to work out who was the most scared or threatening. My heart was thumping. I continued further up to the top of Shutts. A curious day, high cloud and a weird misty ambiance. But the biggest thing was the silence. It was huge, absolutely not a sound to be heard. It was quite special. A couple of easy days now, before Sundays race. Two hilly laps. No pb's here, just racing for points. It's forecast 15C for the weekend. Hot! Maybe a recce run tomorrow.
