I am a hedonist. I like the sunshine, I like lovely restaurants, a cheeky glass of bubbles and generally the finer things in life, so I’m not quite sure I’m cut out to be a runner. Especially a muddy one. Don’t get me wrong, there is a certain intrinsic sense of achievement that I get on a Sunday morning when I come back plastered and have to strip off in front of the washing machine before I enter the house, but ideally when its wet, cold and windy, I’m the ‘lets hit the gym’ type of girl.
The only problem is I have a training partner, who likes the rain, doesn’t care if its snowing, hates tarmac and generally, unless very ill will run whatever the weather, whenever possible. I like to think I’m fit, I’ll never make the Olympics or win any races and I don’t think she would either, but she puts me to shame and always manages to get me out when I would rather stay in. Perhaps its her big brown eyes, perhaps its the fact that after four o’clock if I’m in the office, she won’t rest unless I’m changed and ready to go, she has a body clock that would scare the crap out of my alarm so it’s a good job they have never met. Incidentally she is immune to the morning buzzer, which is another trick I am yet to learn.
Having a running partner, who gets you out, holds you to account (but doesn’t moan if you decide to walk up a hill), will always run back and find you if you slow down and is never under motivated, is quite frankly amazing. She has taught me a lot about running and about freedom. Mostly I enjoy the feeling of rain on my face and brambles across my legs, and even if I don’t its always worth it for those magic moments, when the early dawn lets you see a majestic stag or a playing badger family. Those moments for me are what running is all about; having a running partner to do it with just makes it even more magic.
So here’s to all the hedonists and their dogs, they are the perfect partners.