Softly, torpedoed
Daylight is still shortening its stride, making it more and more difficult for me to fit in a run without encroaching on darkness’s domain. To help me ford the night, I invested in a state-of-the-art Petzl headlamp and the bosky route I usually traverse is now an “open all hours” territory.
Tonight was a case in point. At a quarter to eight, I was still feeling bloated from a latish, albeit delicious, 2-course meal of mama’s cooking. My eyelids were also having a say in the bodily conference, gently tugging downwards as I played some moves in my on-line backgammon tournaments. Conniving with a reluctant body, the heavens issued an ominous rumble while my desktop weather station reminded me that the outside temperature was soon going to reach a single digit figure.
And so it was that 15 minutes later I hit the initial stretch of tarmac, trying to find my legs before the secure surface dropped off (literally) to a mix of rock, loose stones and muddy patches. As happy as I am with the luminosity of my headlamp, it still doesn’t beat the natural light of day. Hence the extra care and almost chameleon-like moves when the North Face running shoes failed to find a grip.
The earlier thunder had a bark worse than its bite, because it only deposited a drizzle throughout the 50-minute session. However, it turned out to be a fascinating sight. At times the strong wind played chicken with me, approaching me at speed with the intent of making me veer off-course; not very successfully, I must add. It was at these moments that the gentle raindrops failed to fall to the ground anymore but, buoyed by the current of air, found a near-horizontal trajectory. The Petzl lamp caught each and every one of these thousands of watery torpedoes in a flood of light, illumining the individual droplets before they impacted upon me ever so softly.