Early morning

It's one of those weeks when I'm struggling to fit in all my exercise and I was disappointed to realise that the only chance I was going to get to do my shorter run was this morning. Early this morning.

Last night, I went to bed with my alarm set at seven o'clock, as usual, and thought that if I didn't wake up at six, I just wouldn't run, which is the deal I make with myself to help myself get off to sleep, but I woke promptly at six, anyway, so I had a protein shake, read the paper for ten minutes, and then got changed into my running stuff and I was out of the house for half past.

Lord, it was cold. And dark. I proceeded cautiously down the ginnel, across Fairgarth, along the path up to the Oxenholme Road and set off north towards Kearstwick. A flurry of cars passed me - people who started work in Kendal at seven, I guess - but apart from that it was very quiet. 

There was a little light in the sky by the time I was running up Hophouse Lane, which was just as well as there were some icy patches where water had come off the fields and over the road. 

Once I was over the A65, around seven o'clock, the pre-dawn light was showing me faint colours and I could see the reds and oranges in the trees. I warm through after about a mile, so by this stage I'd long since taken off my hat and gloves and the run was perfectly enjoyable. It really is the getting started that's the difficult thing.

I stretched when I got home and that timed things perfectly for waking Abi up at seven-twenty, at which point I went back downstairs to make coffee and took this photo from the back door, the sun boiling away, just below the horizon.

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-11.4 kgs
Reading: Still nothing!