I drive around a lot. It's a work thing, but I kind of know my way round the country. Not as well as Chris. He's one of those "left at the Dog and Duck, then 2nd right after the Holly Bush" navigator...from one end of the country to the other with Encyclopaedic knowledge. I'm not quite like that. Certainly not dependent on my sat-nav. I was once asked, with respect to how you set your sat-nav map, "are you someone who thinks the earth revolves around you (direction of travel always points up) or are you simply part of the world (North is up).
I can read a map. My North is North. However, no mater how many times I drive the M6, my northward journey might as well be on a different road to the southward return. I simply can't equate where I am in one direction in respect of the journey in the opposite direction. And actually, I'm fine with that. Two journies for the price of one. And so it seems the same with my running routes. Really, we're spoilt for choice of places to run around. And even if we mix it up now and then, each route has its favoured direction. Habit.
Of all the running I do, there's one fixed variable, and that's Monday night PCR (pre circuit-class run). It's the same every time. But last night, Chris suggested we run it reverse. We almost got lost. That simple, ingrained 4 miles route of left left left, was now right right right. At least we saw that gritter before our shins got shot-blast to the bone. Chris was beside himself. "This is great, Rich, I'm loving it". It's funny how something so familiar can have a completely different feel when viewed from a slightly alternative view point. A lesson for life there, I think.
