Is it me? Is there a full moon?
This morning’s run was like The Fantastic Journey meets Night of the Living Ned*.
I set off at 5.15am all looked normal. As I got to the bottom of the road I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye on a fence. A squirrel. It was clearly as surprised to me as I was to see it and decided to make a run for it, in exactly the same direction as I was running. The squirrel was clearly unhappy that we were now running mates and kept looking to see if I was still there. After about 10 metres the squirrel was going to run out of fence but he now had a fair momentum going and I wasn’t stopping, I had my Endomondo app clocking up my performance.
At the last second Squirrel Nutcase made a flying leap to the right, into a bush and vanished.
About a mile later a pale ginger cat galloped along a wall beside me, probably hoping I would be letting him/her in, but again leapt off into the darkness of a garden and disappeared.
I was half expecting a labrador too come bounding up and bark meaningfully but no, now the real weirdness kicked in.
First off was some idiot in a car who decided to demonstrate his appreciation of seeing a woman running by beeping his horn repeatedly. It’s not even 6am at this point. I wasn’t going to be remonstrating with him about the finer points of the highway code re sounding car horns after dark, but I was cringing as I jogged on along the road.
Next I pass a man at a road junction who was literally staggering drunk – finest zombie impersonation I’ve seen in a very long time. All stiff limbs with one arm out at an angle for no obvious reason. I was delighted to see him take a different route. But then I pass a pensioner in a flat cap, marching down the middle of Burton Road. There is a pavement.
Usually I see two buses and another runner if I’m lucky. Maybe a taxi.
But these little carry-ons do pass the time as you plod along. No surprise I ran my fastest mile during the drunken zombie episode.
Cheeringly I clocked up five miles in just under an hour which is a pb for me. Wonder if I can book the squirrel and the cat for Thursday…?
* A Ned is Scottish slang for a ne’er-do-well fool displaying almost certain criminal intent. It’s an acronym which stands for Non-Educated Delinquent