The main advantage of running in the mornings through winter is that you get to mark the advance of the seasons, and almost will Spring in as you move each foot forward.

The beauty of dawn still never ceases to amaze me, and I consider myself fortunate in that I actually can get up at an uncivilised hour to trot off the 15 miles to work; because despite niggles here and there, it really isn’t a chore. It is the most peaceful time of the day, I didn’t see a soul out on the pavement until around half way through my run this morning, and whilst that is unusual for a city centre – and the route I take – it was a liberating experience.

The first person I did pass had a gorgeous spaniel who looked most perplexed as to why someone was chugging along with a backpack wearing some ludicrously bright and reflective clothing, a head torch set to dazzle, and had yoghurt all over his legs.

Of course, it wasn’t until 7 or 8 miles in when I stopped for a hot cross bun and a drink that I actually noticed the yoghurt: a spattering down the front of my legs. I have an unfortunate but small hole in the bottom of my rucksack, and sure enough one of my yoghurt pots had burst in my bag, and dripped out down onto my legs. Oh well – no harm done, other than a bag full of yoghurt.

Dawn had broken around 7:50 this morning, and I sauntered into the village where I work at 8:10am, running smoothly. I felt like I had had a good run; my average speed was ticking along nicely, and I was enjoying myself thoroughly. Being a regular commuter by bike, you get to recognise the other regulars and say good morning as you pass. It’s nice passing them as they recognise you with a look of surprise because you’re not on your bike, but still take the time to say good morning. It’s little things like this that help take the mind out of the work, and just enjoy the run.

A great enjoyable run this morning, encompassing just under 15 miles in 1 hour 48 minutes was only slightly marred by getting to work and realising that the small spattering of yoghurt on the front of my legs was only marred by the huge deluge, that dwarfed it, on the back. The only way I can really describe it is that it probably looked – to the dozens of people I passed and who passed me on the commute to work – like I’d shat myself and let it just run down my legs, after eating something altogether unpleasant the night before.

Oh well. It will wash out!

I did approach the Christmas period with a sense of foreboding – it’s a usual time to eat and drink too much, put on some weight, and lose all the fitness I’d worked so hard to build after injuring my ankle.

However, I did not eat to excess, and I managed a fell race on Boxing day. My legs in truth still haven’t recovered fully; my running is dreadful at present. The daily cycle commute of 30 miles is a wonderful cross train however, and whilst my legs feel like two blocks of lead, I am encouraged by my fitness. I don’t appear to have lost much, (not that I had a huge amount before Christmas mind!), and I have lost half a kilo. Ideally I would like to lose 5-8 KGs for racing, but given that I’m so far off being able to race yet, I can’t be too unhappy.

So today I will be entering the Haworth Hobble. And a-hobbling I shall be. I plan to walk/jog the distance this year, my real aim is to do a good years work on the hills, and then run it next year. I can’t see me ever getting near the winning times which are usually and incredibly down near the 4 hour mark, but I’d like to be able to compete, and that will require a long set up time. Plans after that vary, but they certainly include moving house in order to be able to train in hills!