During the first week of Janathon I was full of grand plans to do a couple of early pre-dawn runs. I even went so far as to call Morning of Magicians for being a lightweight as he was ‘only‘ going out at 7.00 (in comparison to my hardcore 6.00). Inevitably, he got up and actually went out for his run, whereas I shunted my Janathon efforts to the end of the day…
I did have an excuse though. The weekend before new year, I’d come down with a bit of a cold and spent a couple of days with a sore throat and aching limbs, which had pretty much gone by Monday morning. Unfortunately, it left the gift of an annoying tickly cough that, while being absolutely fine during the day and not affecting my Janathon efforts, came on as soon as I lay down. Now, I need my sleep – I love sleep, I can sleep anywhere – I am that woman on the train who gets on, sits down, closes her eyes and then nods and dribbles until her destination (strictly speaking, usually the station before my destination when I wake up in a panic thinking that I’ve missed my stop). When coughing fits forced me to see 1.00, 2.00 and 3.00 on the clock, I was strangely reluctant to consider getting up at 5.30 for a run.
I couldn’t admit all this at the time because my mum would have read it and shouted at me, however I’ve seen her since and she’s had chance to shout at me in person (or at least look concerned that I looked a bit pale and panda-like, which was worse than being shouted at). Anyway, I invested in some sort of cough remedy and on Monday night I had a proper night’s sleep. Despite my mind working overtime when the light went out last night (note to self, must sort car insurance) when the alarm sounded this morning (see linswoo’s Janathon day 4 for the ultimate in Janathon alarms), I lurched out of bed and was outside by 6.00.
As I set off, I thought “cold, dark and misty, that’s today’s run”, but by the turnaround point I had upgraded to “cold, dark and foggy”. It was that type of cold that nips at your calves (my fault for wearing 3/4 length tights) and that type of mist that leaves your eyeballs feeling damp (my fault for having them open). My poor legs mustn’t know if they’re coming or going because they managed a much better pace than last night despite there only being 12 hours between outings. Other than that, I barely saw a soul (just a couple of people waiting for their lifts to work), it was all pretty quiet and I have since been rewarded with porridge and a pot of tea.