A surprise half

I normally wake up pretty early these days, so I didn't set an alarm to make sure that I got up in time to take Dan to work, this morning. But I think two days in Edinburgh plus Friday's early start had taken it out of me and it was lucky that I woke up just in time to get him up to shower and to go and make a coffee. 

He was at work bang on time and then I walked along the prom to take a companion shot to yesterday's photo. The tide was conveniently in, which is what I wanted, but the weather was disappointing. 

Once I was back home I changed into my running stuff as I wanted to do a long run this morning while Abi was still asleep or at least lying in. I did a run a couple of years or so ago from the cottage in Kirkby Lonsdale that went out to Barbon Beck and I was thinking of doing that again. I had it in my head that it was about ten and a half miles. 

I'd decided - after some encouragement from the Minx - that today might be a good time to trial the Camelbak Hydrobak that I bought last year but never got 'round to using, so I spent a bit of time on YouTube working out how to use it. (As an online resource, it compensates well for my lack of practical common sense.) After that I spent some more time fretting that the straps might chafe until Abi - now ensconced on the sofa - looked up and, in the voice of of a weary parent, said "Well, just see how you get on."

And so I set off, down the ginnel, through the church yard, along Back Lane, and over Devil's Bridge. From there I went up the steep track to the caravan park, at which point I took the new route that I learned on the school sponsored walk to High Casterton, and then up to the top road above the old railway line. It was around this point that I realised I was running really well. An unusual amount of stress in my thighs but also a feeling of energy there, too. 

The weather was mixed, to say the least, and I though that when I reached Barbondale, I might turn back down into the village if the rain got heavy but the sun came out and I decided to head out to Barbon Beck. The Fitbit app told me I was at 4 miles, so I figured the whole run, as I'd started from the house and not the cottage, might now be eleven and a half miles. 

I ran down to the bridge, crossed over, and ran back along, through the woods below the manor house. At this point I found myself almost grinning with pleasure; I was feeling absolutely great. No aches or pains and still plenty of energy in my legs (and still, particularly, in my thighs). By now I was sipping from the Camelbak every so often and I wonder if that was helping. 

Around the nine mile mark - the point by which my legs had felt 'empty' during last week's run - I realised I still felt great. It was becoming obvious that the run was going to come in at 12 miles, so I thought about how I might extend the route up to a half marathon, which resulted in me running that last mile up the A65, still not tired. 

And so it was that I arrived home having clocked up 13.3 miles. I have to say I was really surprised to manage this and also that I still felt fine as I came to a halt at the house. In fact, I would normally have showered and napped but, as it was, I was up and active for the rest of the day.

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