As soon as I got in this evening pulled on my running stuff and went out for a last effort before the half marathon on Sunday. Some dijk repeats at various places. Stumbled when I was almost home and caught myself on the side of the house I was passing. Thought I'd broken a finger but it seems just to be a bit stiff and swollen and sore. And I didn't actually hit the ground this time so no new holes in yet another pair of leggings.
Ha, I'll be getting confused folk googling Ernest Hemingway landing on this post now I suspect. Sorry folks, nothing to do with his eloquent defense of bullfighting, just another dawn run, the first in more than 10 days after a break due to general limp dischclothness. Started out deciding just to get round at plod speed but after the first 5k realised I felt able to put a little more effort into it and did the home straight a bit faster. (Exact stats later when Garmin is co-operating more.)
Got out in the last of the light as there was a break in the clouds after a grey/wet day. Was going faster than normal, a lot of it due to the joy of having finally managed to get the new wireless printer to communicate with the computer. I do like it when I master a new bit of technology without too much swearing.
Great run - after going to bed at 4 having jumped about in unsuitable boots for hours at the Harley Club new year party last night I was slightly worried that my shins might be protesting but they felt fine and my planned long run got done, though finishing at sunset rather than starting at sunrise as was the original plan. Took a previously unknown to me path through the polder - idyllic dirt path with water on both sides and a low winter sun in front of me (while the Running from the Reaper podcast was describing a canal run with a low winter sun in front of him - very fitting; there were even sheep when he was telling of how he had to chase 6 of the beasts back into their field).
Have been trying to increase the pace a bit recently and managed again to put some more effort into the run once I got warmed up rather than just getting slower and slower towards the end.
Along the river to Gouderak where a short 70c ferry crossing brought me across to Moordrecht where I could run back along the other side.
It was unseasonably warm and I had to roll my leggings up to cool down a bit after the first 2k.
The Plan is: to run a marathon in every county in the Netherlands.
Last Dutch county marathon completed!
Zuid Holland ~ Rotterdam, April 1997 4:22 (pre-blog days, so no link to a race report as with my later marathons) Flevoland/Overijssel ~ Urk/Zwolle November 2009 4:53:30 (this is 'cheating' a bit as the race begins in one county and ends in the other, so I'm going to run it again this year to make one whole marathon for each county) And here it is - the second Zuiderzee Marathon, November 2010 5:03(?) Utrecht ~ Utrecht, April 2010 2010 4:52 (no offical time as last minute entry and Utrecht then makes you pay lots of money for practically nothing) Brabant~ Eindhoven, October 2010 4:50:08 (Great crowd support.) Zeeland~ Burgh-Hamstede/Zoutelande, October 2012 5:59:56 (First one where I thought I might DNF.) Noord HollandBeemster, May 2014 (4:45:??? - no official time released)
I watch God's face falling slow slow, even orangier and the clouds are all colors, then after there's streaks and dark coming up so bit-at-a-time I don't see it till it's done. (Room ~ Emma Donaghue)
They drove on into the last of the day's blue, so pale, haunting and intense in the way brief things are. (Romanno Bridge ~ Andrew Greig)
an oyster light that lasts for hours before the sun is actually up and so has about it a diffuse and magical quality (The Weight of Water ~ Anita Shreve)
in the far sky a huge bank of slate-blue cloud was shutting down like a lid on the last, smouldering streak of sunset fire. (The Book of Evidence ~ John Banville)
Oriental sunsets of soupy jade and marmalade (Ghostwritten ~ David Mitchell)
the mournful, bittersweet color of a day's end, that piercing golden bask over the landscape made all the more aching for the fact that it wouldn't last. (The Post-Birthday World ~ Lionel Shriver)
It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close ~ Jonathan Safran Foer)
low-flying clouds of red and purple, lit from below with dark gold (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society ~ Mary Ann Shaffer)
a daybreak like a row of sparkling dinner knives (A Long Long Way ~ Sebastian Barry)