So it all started with the bliss of warm arms enfolded around me, warding off the early morning chill. The pleasure enhanced through moulding the duvet into the spaces where the cold air would fill. And then he whispers, ever so romantically it almost sounded like a proposal of everlasting love:
“Let’s go for a run?”
It took a while to register through the fog of a wine induced state that he was actually serious. I’d been conscious of the steady downfall of rain through the night, it wasn’t letting up. I mumbled something about tea, he got me water. It left a metallic taste in my mouth, enough for me to go get the tea. Grumpily I found the wicker base layers and pulled them on. Darn it – two left socks. Rummaging around, my eyes still not focused and lazily trying to draw me back into the depths of a dreamless sleep, found a comrade.
Glass of water and cup of tea later, the hamstrings were being coaxed into moving, of course, can’t forget my troublesome achilles heel.
Somehow, I’m walking in the pouring rain. The heavy droplets already breaking the barrier of my thin showerproof jacket. I watch them bounce off the canal surface like it was a trampoline and am startled by the noisy take off of mallard ducks as if they were going to war. I’ve found a smile at last, Verd had the same notion, he starts to create vocal noises of gunfire.
The Garmin watches are synched, ready to time the first of our non-stop runs this year, having built up slowly again after a winter lull in the programme. I mess up mine as always and start about 30 seconds after him. I plod. He looks like he’s running. I watch him pass under the bridge and disappear around the bend, all I can hear is my own breath and distract myself by taking time to take in the signs of nature around me. The song birds are making their presence known in the foliage above me. I see a robin take off from a mossy dry stone wall. Geese upon the tow path face the canal like they are on sentry duty. They shift from foot to foot nervously as I approach. I give them distance. I’m getting my second wind now. My feet and breath are in rhythm.
A dog obediently waits by its owner as I pass. We exchange our good mornings. I managed to get the words out without it being too painful, I’m nearly half way now. Can I get past that bend? it’ll be the furthest I’ve gone this year. Starting to feel comfortable. He’s on his way back already, and gives me a very confused look as I continue in the opposite direction to him. He didn’t know about my 30 second delay in getting started. By the time I’ve turned around, he’s well ahead of me. I slow to keep my heart rate in check before picking up pace again.
Under the last bridge, I know I’m going to make it this last hurdle. Time up, and I slow to a walk feeling a sense of achievement. I’m surprised how quickly I recover, so slowly jog to catch up to Verd again, an extra three mins. I announce that we’ll be back doing the park runs again soon.
Written for the Day 19 Writing 101 challenge – to write 400 words without stopping. So any errors of spelling and grammar are to be excused!!