Truly running

I went to Kim's home and we had a run together. It was a glorious evening - still unseasonably warm for mid-April - and the combination of vivid yellow rapeseed fields and blue skies was stunning.

She'd clocked a route of three miles, through some country lanes and down into town. When we started, I was going at my usual reasonably slow pace, and took a while to warm up; the muscles still kicked in with a distracting nag. However... around about a mile into the run, something freed up and for just a couple of minutes I was able to run without being aware of aches and pains. The feeling came and went, a minute or two at a time, but it was there.

We jogged about 1.5 miles without a break, which was more than I'd managed before; and until the small slope uphill at the end of this section, the HR didn't go above 155 bpm. We walked for a few minutes, stopped, stretched and set off again. And then, right at the end of the run, I felt like flying - speeded up to a genuine run rather than a jog. And felt amazing.

The sunset was beautiful across the surrounding Norfolk countryside.