November has been horrible - and its only the 9th. It feels like it's been a month long already.
I have spent the best part of the first few days of this month in bed, in between bouts of vomiting and sitting on the bog.💩.
It started with a trip to Norfolk (no not like that) and relinquished enough for me to get up last weekend and do a 'cross race. Then reinstated itself with a vengeance on Tuesday and Wednesday. I drove to work on Thursday (still weak but well) then mysteriously still felt ill at work on Friday after managing to ride in.
And so... my powers of deduction lead me to believe that my Camelbak bike bottle is poisoning me. I took it to Norfolk, I drank from it on the way back from 'cross and carried it to work on my bike on Friday. It's had one replacement lid due to a crack and now the nipple is black and I just can't be arsed to clean it a second time. It's to the bin, which is a shame as it's probably the best thing I've ever won at a triathlon - third place in my first ever vet race. Still, all good things come to an end.
Today I felt well again after a walk into town and so I have finally ventured out for a run. The bike trails are a mess after this week's flooding so I thought I'd give them - and the bike washing a break (as I expect to be washing 'cross bikes tomorrow).
Oh how I've missed running.
I was in such a panic to bike the whole way through last year - if I was well enough to run I should be mountain biking. By the time I realised running - or hard hill climbing was half the battle in the Highland Trail, I'd already missed out on too much running to casually take it up.
I miss running on the trails and fells. The freedom. Talking with fell runner friends last weekend, they reinforced my feeling of being trapped by the bridleways on the bike. Not only are the innumerably more footpaths than bridleways, I can literally run anywhere on the open moorland above Sheffield. The route choices are, in effect, endless.
Whilst trails by bike light are one thing, a head torch run is another level. The light transmission just about keeps up with the feet and the run speed is perfect to appreciate the light bouncing back from the silver under-side and gold upper-face of leaves. On a wet evening, everything glistens brighter in the light of a head-torch so no matter what the weather, a night run is often better for the soul than a day run.
And the fitness benefits - not to forget those. I can ride further than I ever could nowadays but slowly. what I need to do is keep the long rides but be as fit as I was when I was racing team GB. Deadly.
There will be more of this... at least I hope I can keep it up.
