So, we’re getting all highbrow now are we, throwing in a bit of Latin to make a mundane post seem more interesting? Absolutely. Guilty as charged. Mea culpa.
Another deviation from tradition today because I undertook my long run in the late afternoon instead of in the morning. It actually worked out well, having time to do a bit of essential housework before draining myself of energy for the rest of the day. I set out with the intention of doing a traditional long run in traditional national dress, but I was not exactly sure about the route I was going to take. The car sort of led the way, and I found myself heading for the Brampton Valley Way disused railway track at Draughton Crossing.
Once there, I started to run north towards Market Harborough instead of in my favoured direction south towards Northampton. My legs sort of led the way, and I followed at a safe distance. I knew that I would have to turn back at the Kelmarsh tunnel because I did not bring a torch with me (essential because of the darkness, strangely enough, and the rather treacherous terrain – big holes, rocks to stumble over, and walls to graze one’s arms on; which I did even with a torch. See my post Running in a Straight Line for further details!), but I forgot it was only a mile up the track. I turned round at the entrance (or the exit if you are travelling the other way, as were a group of cyclists well-prepared with lights, and looking bemused at my turning – possibly affected by the aforementioned national dress).
Rather than just head back towards Northampton, I took a bridleway to the right as a bit of a diversion. This is where the ad libitum fits in, and another mark against my name in the marathon police’s naughty book – routes should be planned and running goals specified. There’s no place for lack of focus on the Sunday long run! To compound my guilt, my pace was all over the place – slow and easy, as it should be on Sunday (or is that just Sunday mornings?! – thank you, Lionel Richie), with bits of tempo running, and, towards the end, just shuffling along with no particular place to go…
The bridleway provided a bit of elevation on what is usually a fairly flat course. It curved around open fields and the terrain was a bit more challenging for my ankles, so I had to be careful with my pace. It ended in the village of Maidwell, so I took the road back down to the Draughton Crossing and then picked up the route south for a couple of miles before heading back. My target mileage was 5 plus (how vague can you get?!), and when I got to 6.5 I thought I’d go for the 7. Completely not in the spirit of well-planned runs, but great fun!