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Fog and belgian toast

27 December, 2009

A heavy bank of fog passed over my neighbourhood last night, and perhaps it was this and the foghorns that lulled me into an unusually sound sleep. By the time I started my long run this morning the fog had cleared and I set out under a deep blue sky. The climate here is such a good fit for me being as it is mild, mostly predictable, grey with enough bright patches to keep you going. I grew up in England, where the weather is very much the same, so it’s in my bones.

The view from Prospect Point today

For once, I actually had a decent view from Prospect

Near Prospect Point

Point, and so I stopped for a few minutes to take some pictures (they hardly do it justice though). I was skeptical about the redevelopment of the car park while it was happening, but I have to admit that the result is a big improvement, and if anything there seems to be a greater emphasis on trees (even if the car park does now have a higher capacity than before). There lingered some fog in the higher reaches of Stanley Park, which made for some beautiful sunbeams. I don’t usually carry my camera while running, though photography is another passion of mine. I just can’t do both at the same time. Once I went trail running with some people who were significantly slower than me, but I found it hard to keep up because I’d brought my camera and there were just too many shots ready for the taking.

Anyway, I restrained myself today. The only reason I even managed to carry my camera was because I was testing out my Black Diamond daypack, which was actually designed for climbers, with a view to using it on longer runs for carrying fuel and water. It seems to work well, although the weight was significantly less than, say, two litres of water, which I still have to try out.

I’ve resolved not to turn this into a running and food blog, even though there’s nothing wrong with that, but I feel compelled to share with you that post-run I had french toast with Nutella. I’d better call it belgian toast as I suspect the French auraient une attaque if they knew I was using rye bread, but, either way, it’s the ultimate in decadent recovery grub!

Today, 12 miles. This week, 36.

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