A run in the dark

…Of course, about 50% of my runs at this time of year are in the dark. Tuesday and Thursday morning I rise at 05:00 with varying degrees of enthusiasm and head out to log some miles before work.

The enthusiasm is often increased or decreased by whether I can hear rain blattering against the window or by how much the bedroom curtains are blowing in the breeze. Sometimes I simply imagine I can hear the rain based on what last night's weather forecast was like (not that I'm normally awake to see it) or think it must be freezing cold based on a bright moon.

I drag myself out of bed and quietly (or as quietly as I am able being particularly clumsy) make my way downstairs, turn all the lights on, get my shoes from the porch, don my running gear and get out the front door. 

I'm rarely disappointed. 

I was telling a Kiwi member of my team – who is used to less Autumnal weather than we get – that there is no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothing (sadly not original). My gauge of what to wear is based on the temperature as I get my shoes from the porch and whether I can actually hear the rain. I'm a firm believer that unless you can actually hear it then it isn't actually raining; drizzle really doesn't count and as for mist – pah!

This morning's run was special.

It has been raining pretty consistently – alternating between drizzle and torrential – for about a week, so most of the paths and trails are water-logged and muddy. The Ridgeway on Saturday was like a skating rink with the top layer of chalk soaked to make a really effective lubricant under-foot and this morning the green lane that runs from St. Nicholas' school up to the Wantage road was like something out of Total Wipeout!

What made this morning's run really special though was that I had forgotten to charge my head torch. 

A torch powered by regular batteries tends to fade gradually and you have a little warning that it is about to give up on you. This rechargeable job, while brighter than a million candles (or something) seems to go from "oooh, thats quite bright" to "bugger-all" in about the length of time that it takes to get just far enough from home to think that it isn't worth turning back. 

It would have been!

Running where I do, in the dark, means that you have to be lit up like a Christmas tree. Some of the roads that I venture on, while not particularly busy, have poor visibility and some drivers (myself included) tend to drive quite quickly. I have a series of red, flashing lights illuminating me from the rear and rely on the head torch to both see and be seen from the front. I was therefore forced to make a decision as whether I wanted to see where I was going on the muddy, tree-lined trails with deep ruts and piles of horse poo OR be seen on the roads with what little power remained in the rechargeable batteries…

Of course I chose the “be seen” option which explains why I had to turn the hosepipe on myself when I got home! Most refreshing.