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Licking the dragon

13 December, 2009

If the runner’s high were predictable, then running would indeed be a drug. But, as it happens, I never know when to expect this occasional side-effect. As the first snow of the season fell this morning, I took on an old favourite: science world to prospect point and back, via second beach. The ocean was so calm and beautiful, and I even had the humming chorus, from Madama Butterfly playing on the headpod. All today’s music was very calming, downtempo, as befits the snow.

The snow makes everything a little harder — it’s necessary to bring the focus a little closer to the feet, to consider each step a little more carefully. The first half was pretty grim, nay gritty. Though I woke up feeling not too bad, I was fighting nausea on account of deciding to go straight out after breakfast, without waiting for the stomach to empty and the snow to pile up.

Coming back down though, after second beach, still cruising along at a sub-seven minute pace, but breathing easy, arms fluid, shoulders back, I was surprised by the warm fuzzy feeling that started this time at the back of the head, and pretty soon a little part of me was curling up before the white heat of the hearth. Fragments of emotion, from months or years before, tease the brain like the remnants of last night’s dream on the pillow. Pain and pleasure come together, bliss, our birthright, redemption even, all seems possible.

Well, it didn’t last forever, and I came round to Fauré’s Berceuse as rendered by Evelyn Glennie. Towards the end of the run I was suffering from some rather nasty chafing. These dumb jogging pants are too baggy, and I’m going to have to wear spandex, or resort to vaseline!

Today: 11.5 miles
Weekly total: 34 miles

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