First one down!

Today was the annual Braunton 10 organised by the North Devon Road Runners. I ummed and ahhed about taking part this year, since I have done nothing resembling a consistent training plan for well over a year and am not exactly feeling prepared for distance running again yet. In fact, last year's Braunton 10 was probably the last time I ran over 8 miles! Still, it has become a tradition to take part in this race and there's nothing like traditions for making you want something you wouldn't otherwise, (without them we wouldn't have mince pies or creme eggs, for instance, and what a poorer world that'd be...). Plus I knew I'd be feeling guilty on Monday morning if I didn't at least try. I haven't missed a year of this race since moving to Devon so, in time-honoured spirit I forced myself out of my warm bed and took my place amongst the frozen faces and goose-pimpled limbs on the start line at the cold athletics track.

I'm glad I did, as it's a good route with plenty of examples of some of the things I love about running; silent, sheltered woods, sweeping views, space for meditative plodding, and lung-busting hills. OK, I don't really love hills, but I love the satisfaction of making it to the top and the feeling that you've really earned the breezy ride back down, and killer hills certainly help make it satisfyingly tough!

So the first race is down, and in not too shabby time either (91 minutes 30, if you're asking), so I feel a bit more ready for the next one. And I managed to fill plenty of the meditative plodding time I was referring to with working on a poem for my writing blog, which helped the ten miles pass more productively this year too! (Although, in the calm, warm and clean post-race environment I'm not so sure the world really wants my ode to sports bras, so I've posted an older one up today instead! Read it here)