This morning was early.
I suspect the false start on Wednesday followed by running on
Thursday and today has probably not helped my body’s perception of things; nor
has its curious refusal to go to sleep before about 12.30am. Whatever the
cause, when the alarm went off at 6:40 this morning I was none too pleased.
Actually, I started off being more confused than displeased.
I’d been at church small group the previous night and I think my dream at that
point involved me still being there, and I think I woke up halfway through making
a point, to the point where I may have woken up talking. It took me a minute to
work out what was happening, and from there it took me about a millisecond to
decide that I wasn’t ecstatic about this. Whose stupid idea was it to have a
blog about running? I definitely should have started a thrice-weekly blog about
naps instead. I could have been the Napster and made sleep-based puns at the
end. Maybe it’s not too late for this…
Alas, for now I am stuck with committing to actually get up
and run in the mornings. So, with a fair deal of reluctance, I threw on some
shoes, before realising that throwing shoes at yourself doesn’t actually help
and instead putting them on my feet.
I also realised that I hadn’t downloaded the right podcast
for today. There is a separate podcast for each run, which seems slightly odd
given the minimal amount of input for each run. Chad, the friendly American
voice who won’t use four words when one will do, and who won’t express any
sentiment requiring more than ten, says exactly the same thing in each podcast,
and I guess the only variation would be in the music that’s played.
The NHS podcasts I used last time often had relatively
friendly tracks, stuff that wouldn’t be out of place in an alternative-universe
Heart FM. These podcasts rely on high-tempo electronica, which is admittedly
not too bad for running to. As an indication of roughly how valuable they find
this music, though, I’ll say this; the podcasts I’m using are free. Alternatively,
you can download an app which allows you to choose your own music instead,
which you have to pay £1.99 for. Thus they seem to put a negative value on the
music I’m listening to – it’s like a more extreme U2. It’s certainly a strange situation
to be in where listening to a free album whilst running (with audio prompts) is
more expensive than listening to what they provide.
Today was the same running program as yesterday, the key difference
between the days being the lack of enthusiasm. It’s impressive how much harder
running becomes when you really would rather be in bed. Nonetheless, I went out
and trudged through the alternating 60- and 90-second runs of general
disappointment.
Another thing that was different today was the route. The
last time I was running I would plan out my route the night before. This time
out, the first two runs were just along one of my default routes. I figured this
one should try and take a different way, but it turns out there really aren’t
that many new and interesting places to run near where I am, since I’ve used
all of the obvious ones. So this time I decided to just go for a run, and
whenever I came to a junction of some description decide then where I fancied
going.
This worked relatively well, actually, and although I was
going along roads I knew fairly well, it felt slightly exciting to be able to
choose where I was going to perspire across, and possibly expire next to.
That is, until I found the footpath to Narnia.
It’s a footpath I’ve passed quite a few times before, and
every time I’ve been surprised to see it, as I’m fairly sure it’s not on Google
Maps and I could never quite think where it went. However, every other time I’ve
been near it I’ve had a route in mind, so I’d go straight past it. Not today,
though. I thought I’d see what wonders awaited me on the other end of it. And I
was not disappointed.
As I crossed it, it was a like a bridge into another world.
(Bother, I should have called it the Bridge to Terabithia instead. Except I
suspect that that’s slightly less well-known than Narnia, and also quite a bit
more depressing). There were roads and houses and grass and trees and cars. It
was like all the other streets that I’d run down, except that this one was not
quite the same. Not in any particularly eerie way, it was just a different street.
Oh, and there was a dragon.
Fine, a faun.
OK, it was a woman walking a dog. But I’m sure it’s a
different woman that I’ve not seen before, and thus presumably a different dog
as well. Unless they do some sort of dog sharing service in this new and
mysterious land.
This new and exciting land was pretty cool in my mind for three
reasons. Firstly, it’s Narnia and that’s pretty cool. Secondly, I’ve run around
the streets near my house so often that it’s quite nice to find somewhere a bit
different to run. Thirdly, I couldn’t quite place in my head where this place should
be. In the image of the local geography I had in my mind, there just wasn’t
room for this street to exist.
Like a slightly sweatier Captain Cook I decided to explore
this brave new world I had discovered (and then I decided to write about it
like a slightly sweatier Aldous Huxley.) (Incidentally, I googled Huxley to check
the spelling of his name, and also to see whether he looked like he’d be more athletic
than me. His Wikipedia page describes the genres he writes in as “Fiction.
Non-fiction.” I feel like this hasn’t narrowed things down too much).
Having explored this street a bit more, it turns out that Narnia
actually lives down a small turning a couple of roads away from where I live –
it’s just another turning that I often run past and then forget about. It seems
to fit quite well there, so that’s a point for town planners. A somewhat anti-climactic
ending, but perhaps this is foreshadowing for an exciting event in a couple of
weeks where Narnia rises up and revolts against the nearby corner shop. It
probably isn’t, but it might be.
Beyond that, the run was fairly uneventful, and the run
ended as it started, in a spectacular medley of exhaustion and indifference. Hopefully
some time for napping over the weekend will result in a more cheerful Monday
blog.
Cillary Black
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