Schizophrenic running.

  • Sunday, May 06, 2012
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On Tuesday I run on slab sided streets with a ragtag, chattering troop out of the club. At least the evening compensates for weeks of grey skies, it is clear and we run beneath a Salvador Dali sunset, smeared across the sky by divine palette knife. This follows Last Sundays mystical run in the fury, the rain and the hills. Saturday I get to do something I love, I run barefoot on a boggy field, albeit around a 400m track, the tedium of going around and around and around again is relieved by the feel of wet grass and cold mud between my toes. This variety stimulates me, a crowd in a sunset, a duo in a storm and a barefoot run on a field. Schizophrenic running.

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