I wanted to go to parkrun this morning but, alas, I got up too late. Only slightly too late and I could have made it if I’d got into my running gear immediately and cycled down to the park without having a cup of tea first, but I’m not much of a get-up-and-get-out-the-door kind of girl, so I dossed about for a bit, then went out for a run by myself round a few local quiet country lanes.
As is usual for round here, I didn’t see many people. I saw a woman and her dog twice and as I got onto the trail that leads back to my road, the dodgiest looking man I’ve ever seen was walking towards me. He was wearing a t-shirt, shorts and trainers but he wasn’t running (obviously only people who are running are allowed to be wearing t-shirts, shorts and trainers) and didn’t look like he had been or was going to be running (obviously all runners look like runners) and he was walking along the path with his fists clenched and his head down. As I went past him, I saw fury on his face and wondered if he always looked like he was in a bad mood or had he just had an argument with his girlfriend or something? But, anyway, he didn’t murder me (obviously) and I carried on running, only looking over my shoulder about twenty-three times to make sure Mr Bad Mood Face hadn’t decided to follow me.
When I got home, I did my usual uploading to SportTracks and Strava thing and was pleased to see I’d won a crown on Strava. YAY! I am currently top woman on the leaderboard for a local segment and fourth overall. Okay, so I’m the only woman on that segment and fourth out of four but that’s not the point. I got a crown. I’m the Queen and you all must curtsey. Ha.