I set myself a 1 hour target for this morning's chosen route. Turning right out of my drive takes me on a 1 mile climb, slow and gentle to start, then two very steep sections with a welcome plateau between them and finishing with another slow and steady rise up to the woods. It is hard.
I am then rewarded with a downhill mile. The relief to the muscles in my legs as different ones take over is so pleasurable that I immediately remember why I do this. On this stretch I can see the lane in the distance and I particularly enjoy picking out landmarks knowing that shortly I will be passing that church, farm, and barn.
All too soon I'm at the bottom and turning right once more. Another slow and steady climb and now I'm rewarded with bright blue sky and fluffy clouds. A buzzard watches me pass as he surveys his kingdom atop a telegraph pole, I'm no threat and he barely blinks his eyelid. Mud everywhere on this lane, at least it diverts my attention from my aching limbs.
Another right turn, this time into a headwind and more incline. I can do this. I will not walk. I really want to do this circuit within the hour. I can see the house at the top of this section. It's downhill all the way home after this. And, breathe, oh the joyous feeling of downhill, I love it. I have one more obstacle to beat, although the road is now kind there is one small gentle rise and it beats me nearly every time. In a car you would not even notice it, but it's there and I hate it. Today I win!
Last turn and it's one last glorious mile, I have always run this section, I have never walked it, I know I can do it, I know I can beat my target, push, push, push, sprint into the drive and a quick glance at my watch shows I have 25 seconds to spare.
Target set, target met.
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