Age shall not wither her

In Haruki Murakami's book 'What I talk about when I talk about running' he voices the pain of seeing your fitness lost to your youth. Until recently, I shared this fear, but turns out my fitness was lost not to my youth, but to my laziness. Something I've taken pains to address.

Since Christmas, I've run at least once a week and yesterday I managed my fastest parkrun time since June. It's still a minute off my PB (the glory days of April 2012), but two minutes faster than recent averages. Age wasn't withering me. Inactivity was.

Stats: 3.1 miles (5km); 26.26; 8.47 minute/mile.

(Pic: It may be pouring down today, but it was beautiful at Dyrham Park, near Bath, last Sunday. Highly recommend a visit if you're nearby.)

Just passing through

On such a beautiful Saturday, it seemed a shame not to do the heath parkun. So I did. Very gently and with a pair of high-grip trainers to ensure, this time, only my feet would make contact with the ground.

After the run, I noticed the trees were dotted with lots of birds. I'm not sure whether they were on their way to a warmer climate (apparently many head to South Africa for the winter - very sensible) or we were the warmer climate: some fly to us from Russia for our slightly 'balmier' weather. Which just goes to show, in the end, everything's relative.

(Stats: 5km (3.1 miles); 29.54; 9.38 minute/mile.)

(Pic: Tree dotted with resting birds and one healthy-sized pigeon that's just taking flight.)

A minor slip-up

And when I say minor, I mean major. And when I say slip-up, I'm not speaking metaphorically.

This was the week my running gained so much momentum I fell over.

It was Wednesday and I was just south of Regent's Park when I lost my footing on the side of a wet pavement. A huge overfilled rucksack rendered my attempts to stay upright futile and I crashed to the floor bonce-first. In fact, I hit the pavement so hard, my head bounced back up again.

As cranium audibly met tarmac, a kind lady ran straight over to help. In retrospect, I think she was more in shock than me. Anyway, I got up, walked for a bit. Then realized I felt fine so ran the remaining two miles or so to work.

I was less fine three hours later when my face resembled a baboon's bottom. At this point, my colleagues dispatched me to hospital where I was poked and x-rayed and, very fortunately, declared fit enough to head home with an A4 sheet on 'caring for minor head injuries'.

And so, my plans to conquer Hampstead Heath parkrun tomorrow may be put on hold. I feel okay and the doc said I could run if I felt like it. But I also have whiplash, so maybe I'll wait and run gently on Sunday. I still can't believe it. I got running gloves for Christmas. Maybe I should've asked for a helmet instead.

(Stats: 5 miles (3 miles - short break as I lay on the floor just north of Baker Street - 2 miles); timewise, not sure, around an hour?)

A gap in the clouds

I have started a running club. In my house.

Today we went for our first club run. Two miles to Hampstead where we found a cafe and had a nice rest.

We then walked home.

It's an infinitely civilized way to combine three of the best things in the world: running, chatting and drinking tea. I highly recommend it.

(Stats: 1.91 miles running; 2 cups of tea per person; 1.91 miles walking. Until our club has progressed, the activity will remain un-timed.)

(Pic: Polly's, lovely little coffee shop on South End Green.)

It's on

My brother's Christmas present to me was entry into a 10-mile night run across Dartmoor on March 1st. Not sure what I've done to upset him.