Home Run

Yesterday’s rain gave way to actual sunshine at 5pm and I soaked up a full 7.5 miles worth of it on my run home from King’s Cross after work.

My legs were tired, there was a twinge in my right knee – I need new trainers – and I gave in and walked up an incline for two minutes in Kentish Town. Despite this, it was a good run. I’m not sure I can put this into words, but it felt romantic to be running last night.

The shadows were long on the pavements, the park was littered with sad corporate pic-nics and passed out drunks. My body was feeling used up but I was pushing on. London looked exhausted, like the end of a party you haven’t really enjoyed. You know you have to clean up or go to bed, and everyone you want to talk to has left, but for a while you’re just going to keep on drinking anyway.

I hope I don’t pay for such hedonistic running today. It hurts to bend my knees and my shoulder is clicking ominously. The rain is back.