the last time i went for a run in the dark, the clocks were set to "it's bloody cold, go home and put on your jammies and make a mug of hot chocolate" time. now it is light well past "flannel and cocoa o'clock", and while i have voluntarily elected to put myself through 26 consecutive miles this june, i have not completely lost my mind by going for midnight training excursions in the interim.
this morning i went for a run, and it was still dark (i generally don't rise before daylight unless it involves being at an airport check in desk). the only thing different was the soundtrack of cheeping birds and the surfeit of hardcore, "proper" runners (me not included) striding by in their visibility tights and their visibly sinewy quadriceps.
afternoons were meant for recreational runners, like myself, who do not wear "singlets", or compulsively check their heart rate monitors to make sure they are (uncomfortably) in their "training zone".
of course, my co-workers at the coffee machine all think i'm a "proper" runner (you bet i casually dropped my pre-dawn activities into conversation this morning).
they seemed less enamoured with the oral dissertation on chafing and blackened toenails that followed.