The jasmine’s in bloom in my garden, so according to Seals and Croft summer is here. It’s just the beginning of June, but the sun was warm enough at 6.30 this morning to raise a Meditteranean scent in the breeze from the suburban gardens of Muswell Hill. If I closed my eyes I could be in Menorca, I thought, bumping down a narrow lane towards a turquoise bay.
If I closed my eyes I could be run over by a bus, or step in dogshit. I kept them open and tried occasionally to glance at the budding blue sky with its wispy clouds, whilst keeping track of where it was safe to put my feet. I only passed one other runner today. She looked as tired as I felt, and her eyes didn’t even flicker in the direction of my face as she pounded by.
I used to hate running in the early mornings. On the rare occasions I did get out before breakfast, I would feel so sick or exhausted I would be incapable of going at anything other than one speed: painfully slow. I’m not sure when the transformation took place, but now I could almost say that I enjoy running in the morning. I don’t enjoy the getting up and getting out of the house part, but once I’m out, beyond the first five minutes of wheezing and creaking, it’s almost as good as any other run.
Not a Jogger 
Do you eat before you run? I am sure I’d be so wobbly if I didn’t, but procrastinate so much when I do…
I don’t if I’m running before work – I need to leave 2 hours after eating or I get a terrible stitch. I don’t feel wobbly unless I haven’t eaten a decent meal the night before or I’m seriously hungover. Then I think procrastination would be for the best…
I was running at 8.30, with no breakfast! Lifechanging! I always imagined I would collapse in a heap of glycogen neediness. Perhaps I couldn’t do long runs but up to 5 miles I’m not gonna eat, wooo! x
Morning runs are the best. It’s the getting out of the house part that’s the hardest.