ONE NIGHT IN HEAVEN
There could be an argument that I appreciate things more as I get older, M-People perhaps not so much. Saying that, I'll steal one of their famous song titles for this week's ramble as it sums up a warm, wild and wet Wednesday night in which I had the most running fun in training I've had all year. Just shy of nine miles over some favourite old haunts on the West Pennine Moors with no specific happenings to make it so memorable. It was just one of those rare outings when everything clicks. On my own, running hard, enjoying pushing myself and absolutely at one with the terrain, the surroundings, the elements, the body and the soul. Now that IS what it's all about! This Summer's invariably rubbish race results paled in to insignificance in just seventy four minutes of unadulterated fell running love. As peak training performances go, this was quite unexpected and I wasn't particularly feeling the love before I started. But this wasn't a fluke either. I've been seizing every opportunity to train on the fells as much as possible the last few months and a bit of extra steel and grit had to surface at some point. A really decent and varied week's training has been had overall and even when feeling buckled I've been able to push through it and find more. Ultimately though, converting this latest mirage of form in to an actual race performance is the next step. The last time I had confidence going in to a race on the back of a good training onslaught, I raced like I had a sack of spuds on my back at Lee Mill a few weeks ago. So confidence ought to go about things quietly I think.
At long last this Summer of all Summer's has finally cracked and we've had a bit of rain to report. Some long overdue give in the ground has brought immediate benefits to the aching soreness of my knees which has now started to fade despite upping the beat last week. The down side is more on the domestic front - it's weed city in the garden, the grass needs cutting and the hedges have had a growing spurt.
Next contest up is the Golf Ball fell race at Rossendale, where things just started to come together last year. It clashes with Harrock Hill this time around, which toyed with my strong affections for the latter. But having missed the last two Harrock's and run the first one like a plank, any series potential is out of the window and frankly, Golf Ball is more of a tester out of the two and one that I shouldn't shirk.