Well, I managed to get up this morning for a run and this feat was achieved by telling husband last night that I had to be up at 6am for a run and to prod me until I moved. I then laid the running gear out on the floor like a deflated me, ready to crawl into. Husband duly performed said duty (I think he took a perverse pleasure in it, but that perception may be down to my sparkling mood at 6am in the dark).
I headed out onto the streets. I had already decided not to run my usual morning route because it goes down some pretty isolated streets and I thought it would not be wise in the dark. Anyway given that I have not been a picture of health recently, I suspected I would struggle to run for 30 minutes non-stop and that I should therefore, break myself back in gently with a wee 20 minute jog. So I just headed off into the residential streets near my house.
And it was dark. I mean, I knew it wouldn't be light at 6.10ish, but I thought maybe it would be sort of "rosy fingers of dawn peeping over the rooftops"-esque. But no. It was "Good grief woman, it's the middle of the night, what are you doing out here when all sane people are still under the duvet?!" dark. And the dark made it harder to see where I was going (amazing, I know) so I had to keep an extra sharp lookout for obstacles on the pavement such as those left by the less well-managed dogs around here. I was not however, expecting a gate. Rounding a corner in a street of bungalows, I came across the gates to someone's drive left opened fully outwards across the pavement. And by "came across" I mean " ran straight into with a deafening clang". I presume the homeowner concerned was worried about disturbing his neighbours with the noise of opening his gates in the morning (or maybe he was just lazy) but if so, I ruined that tactic as I think they may have heard the impact in Glasgow. I await the bruise with interest. It should be a good one.
Anyway, I managed a not too spectacular 22 minutes so at least I am back on the road.