The day dawned an uninpiring grey outside. I got up and tinkered about and did some reading that I needed to do and got some things ready for the week. Then played Scrabble on Facebook. Finally Peter got up and started to make noises about "this long run" that we were doing. Oh no. I told him the only long run I could face was the North Berwick 18 miler on the strength of getting pain au chocolat and a coffee at mile 7 at Aberlady. No negotiation allowed.
By the time we got to North Berwick it was after 3pm. Yes that's right after 3pm. It was with heavy heart and legs that I set off. "This is going to be bad" I predicted. Peter took off like a horse bolting from its stable. I think he knew if he was in ear-shot I would either moan or blame him for this. So he ran off a mile down the road and then a mile back to me. Eejit.
The first 7 miles went by okay though. When we got to Aberlady the couple in Londis where we always stop recognised us and apologised because their coffee machine wasn't working. They were so apologetic I felt bad. "We know you like a coffee" said the woman behind the counter. "I'm sorry."
We went over the road to the posh Ducks at Kilspindie House and I sent Peter in to get coffees while I ate pain au chocolat out of a brown bag, surreptitiously under the outside tables. The coffee was great, but expensive, and Peter said the woman behind the counter gave him a long up and down look as she served him. I hope the folk in Londis get their coffee machine fixed soon. It's pretty crap coffee but they're nice.
Setting off back down the coast is always good. Peter had had about 4 cubes of sugar in his coffee and was burbling on about something. I couldn't keep up to find out what. Shame really. It was a very grey day but it had its charms. It was very still, and where yesterday the sand was all patterned and lumpy, today it was lovely and smooth to run on.
Down the coast beyond Gullane the light began to lower seriously, and by Yellowcraigs it was so dark we really couldn't see any more. Luckily we'd had the sense to take head torches. Peter has a super-bright LED Lenser, I'd taken along an old Petzl one. It would have done but was pitiful next to Mr Shiny's shiny bright light. Pretty soon it was properly dark and we were running along the beach and I was finding, oddly, that I was really enjoying it. Because I couldn't see much the sea sounded louder and more immediate and it was hard to tell exactly where the edge of the sea was until the waves broke, then the froth on the breaking waves looked like lace.
There were little birds out there peeping in the darkness.
I would have thought that we'd be able to see the lights of NB all the way along this way, but we were obviously round a corner from them, so there were few lights anywhere.
Peter was stopping to take pictures of random objects - a blue plastic canister and a big lobster pot. I started to think that if I could face putting my head in a lobster pot it would make a good creepy photo, and we could photoshop out the rest of my body later. A bit further down the beach I told Peter about this and we started looking out for lobster pots. We never saw as good a one again but we gave it a go anyway. It was strangely relaxing lying on the wet sand in the dark with my head in a lobster pot. No really.
We ran the last mile on the lovely manicured golf course as all the golfers had gone home. We had one near encounter with a very fierce sounding dog who happily turned out to be on a lead.
So today's run turned out to be one of the most fun we've had in a while. The coast is quite good for night running because the sand's light-coloured so it's easier to see if there's anything in your way.
I think another beachy night run is on the cards. Maybe next time it's a full moon.
So here comes the week. Just had dinner. It's 20 past 10. Where does the time go?