It was definitely a dirty Friday night. I've had two showers and a bath and I'm still not sure I'm that clean - my toes in particular still look grubby. My trail shoes stink and my formerly white socks have been washed twice but are still showering the floor in mud if I accidentally knock the airer they are drying on. It was the best run I've had in ages though.
On Friday I headed over to Wimpole Estate, a local National Trust property and one of my favourite places. This is what it looks like in the daytime.
By the light of a headtorch, those views are condensed into the mud immediately ahead of you, the hi-viz of another runner & the glowing eyes of sheep. It doesn't matter that you can't see anything though - that's what makes it so magical.
There were about 12 of us who thought that running 10K across the estate at 7pm was a good idea and I'm pretty sure we all loved it. We took it at a gentle pace, chatting away, breaking the silence of the otherwise peaceful woods. We squelched through puddles, slid our way up the steepest muddiest hill & raced down the drier shallower slopes.
Someone described it as running that was good for the soul and I couldn't have agreed more.
