At last, a club run. After almost two months of running on my own I finally found the time to head out with my fellow CJs. Running on my own is a joy, I welcome those moments in my own head as the miles tick by but there’s another particular kind of joy that comes from running with friends.
It was particularly cold as we met in a local car park, everyone commented on it but it was all good-natured; no one was going to duck out now. So off we all went, a dozen or so intrepid runners, heading off into the icy night. That’s probably a bit melodramatic but for me at least it had the feel of an expedition.
It took a kilometre or two to get used to running with others but before long I was chatting and joking away. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to run and chat and it takes the mental edge off trying to complete each kilometre. So much so that before I knew it we were back at the car park.
Eight kilometers done in what felt like the blink of an eye. Okay, maybe not that fast but at points certainly faster than my usual pace and I barely noticed. The joys of the club run!