Wednesday 16 December – Day 6/12; 54.7/89 miles (6.7 today)
It was raining as I stepped out the door on the dot of 7am,
and it stayed wet for the duration. It was also fully dark, so the first half of my route was on street-lit roads. I
seldom run in the dark these days, although back in my working days it was
the norm. I have no recollection of having problems seeing where I was going
under streetlights back then, but I struggled today. Either one’s eyes become
unaccustomed to the condition, or modern streetlights are just not as bright.
The second half of my route was more interesting
and I grabbed a quick selfie at one of the ponds. Two passing women paused whilst I took it, apparently not
realising that they were behind the camera, not in front of it; I thanked them anyway before I trotted on.
After Tuesday’s efforts on the Tissington Trail my thighs
had felt just a little bit ‘exercised’ as I set out on this run. They were
making their feelings known rather more vocally by the end. Hopefully they would
recover before the morrow.
Thursday 17 December – Day 7/12; 59.6/89 miles (4.9 today)
That husband of mine is a star! Once again he hauled himself
out of bed before dawn to act as chauffeur and photographer for this morning’s
outing, which was in Halifax as we'd needed to nip back up to Ma-in-Law's for a couple of days. He also saved the day by providing me with a pair of socks when I
realised the one’s I’d packed wouldn’t work well with the rest of my outfit*.
To Ogden Water we went and it was a lovely morning in a lovely location. As
I rounded the top end of the reservoir on my second lap, the sky over the dam
was turning a glorious orange. By the third time I rounded that point a golden
orb had appeared in that orange sky. It was a pity I didn’t have my phone with
me for some illustrative snaps.
Thus the only photos I have are those taken by Mick as I
crossed the dam on my first lap. It was the first airing of this mismatched
outfit and I’m happy that it performed its job – it put smiles on the faces of
passers-by.
When I called it a day at 4.9 miles (Mick’s socks were
rubbing slightly under my right foot; his feet are three sizes bigger than
mine!), I had good intentions (that didn't come to fruition) of going out for another couple of miles once we
got home late that afternoon. I did, however, spend the rest of the day grumbling about sore thighs.
Friday 18 December – Day 8/12; 64.9/89 miles (5.3 today)
An early trip to the supermarket, with the intention of being home and out for a run by 9am.
The plan was scuppered when, in leaving Lidl’s car park, I noticed that Erica
had a headlight out. So, to Halfords we went where I furtled around in her engine bay then decided that paying £8 for Halfords to do the job sounded like a good deal.
On the way home I was surprised at how lit up reflective
signs on the nearside were (it was that bulb that had gone). Then we got home,
looked at the lights and saw that the nearside was much brighter than the
offside. A closer look and I could see that the new bulb had been fitted upside
down. Mick and Erica headed back into town whilst I stowed groceries and started
getting changed.
The problem was that I was cold, so getting changed involved
ridiculous levels of procrastination (on the plus side, I got some admin done
in between donning clothing items). I’d only managed to get my tights and socks
on before Mick got home, which reintroduced the option of running together.
That gave me the shove I needed to finish getting changed and we stepped out
into a dull, grey, breezy, mizzly late-morning. We stayed together for the first half
an hour, at which point I decided I couldn’t bear to listen to any more of the interview
on the Podcast I had playing (I listen to a lot of Podcasts; it’s extremely
rare that I find an interview unlisten-to-able. Last time it happened it was
because the interviewee used the word ‘like’ approximately eighty times in
every sentence), whereupon I stopped for a few moments to fiddle with my phone
and Mick went on ahead. Our routes soon diverged anyway, as I needed to cover a
mile or so more than Mick, so I did a little out-and-back to one of the canal
bridges. Goodness, the ‘out’ was unpleasant, with the mizzle that had been in the
air throughout being blown full into my face. The ‘back’ was better, with the
wind pushing me along.
The good news: my thighs had ceased (even if only temporarily) their recent complaining.
Three and half days to go … the end is within sight!
(*Not a vanity issue. I’d taken ‘trainer socks’ but needed
some taller ones in order to stop my leggings from riding up. (When I say
‘leggings’ I mean a pair of stripy tights off which I cut the toes and hemmed the edge, because I wasn’t convinced that it would be comfortable to run with
cheap tights on my feet.)