26 September 2013

Black dog

A run is usually a great way to get rid of a black dog, in the figurative (or, as they say these days, "literal") Churchillian sense, but today we had the company of one (literally literally, if you see what I mean) who just wouldn't give up. A large young labrador. I eventually had to hold him by his collar until his owner caught up and took him away on a lead - for the second time. He was not inclined to let me walk him back the way we had come.

In fact the Ridgeway had an unusually large number of dog-walkers on it this morning, as Hugo and I trotted along it after feeding the horses (making a 7.09 mile loop, a perfect start to the day although I don't know whether my companion agrees with that assessment - he was flagging in the second half). Between black dog episodes, we passed a man walking two dogs which raced past me to make Hugo's acquaintance (he lagging some way behind at that point). Their owner was relieved, he told me, that they had ignored me because one of them often jumped up at joggers. I explained that there was therefore a very good reason why they hadn't troubled me. He apologised - and perhaps he will think twice about using the J-word again ...

No data for this run, because Garmin was out of juice. Planning another seven-miler this evening - keen to get fit enough to get a respectable time in the Abingdon Marathon next month, having taken over a spare number. And recent runs, though they haven't been long (it has been some days since I even managed to fit in a 5K between Paddington and the office) have been fast and have felt very good, which bodes well.


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