This was a very different Christmas for everyone. For me there was no roast dinner and just a 30-minute visit to my elderly mother and then my daughter. My sister was in hospital recovering from having a kidney stone removed. Luckily I had been invited to my friends for a festive evening of great food, vast amounts of wine and rum, and much silliness.
Some traditions could still be preserved and that includes my usual Christmas morning gallop. It just means that little bit less guilt when it comes to yet another, last, After Eight mint. Calories burned running mean calories enjoyed eating.
This time there was no Strava pressure, no squeezing out the extra miles. Just a gentle run in the winter sun around Black Carr Woods. This is where I grew up, played out, fought the kids from Holmewood estate and badly lost, built dens and at the age of 14 went for my first ever ‘run’.
This is where I have run and walked through lock downs and tier 3. I know the names of the dogs that try and chase me (Bruno the giant, biggest dog I have ever seen), Lix the big gentle horse and his pretty owner, and where I have raced with other local runners up and down the hills.
Those hills do not disappoint. Scholebrook Lane, the Gib, Keepers Lane, and the legend that is Post Hill have both strengthened and hurt my knees this year. On Christmas morning my legs were so tired and I was happy to avoid hills, instead take some pictures and indulge in a little mindfulness running.
The light at this time of the year is so beautiful and especially after a few days of grey gloom and gloaming. Textures, shadows and colours that you don’t see at the height of summer. My favourite time however is without a doubt early spring because first there are wood anemones then celandines, bluebells, wild garlic, and red campion. I followed the seasons changing from March until now as I ran and ran and ran through the pandemic.
Christmas and the New Year are a time to reflect but even more so to look forwards. The vaccine is coming, races will be run again, my arthritic knee and my IT band will not bother me one bit and the people of the Lake District will welcome us back.
That night my tired but strong legs got me through an evening of debauchery and extreme Dad dancing. The next day I had my first hangover in years and my knee would not straighten. I still went out running.
Happy New Year to all.
— Andrew Sugden (NLFR newbie)