I have realised something….I HATE running when it’s hot. I seem to be unusual on this front, as most people I follow are delighted to be running in warm weather. I just find it too hot.
(This is something I “realise” this on an annual basis, at about this time of year).
The great thing about running in the UK is that it’s never really too warm or too cold. We might have a week of snow in winter – but not always, and a week is no biggie. In summer it might get *quite* warm in the middle of the day, but it’s nothing like the serious heat felt in most places of the world. You can run outside, quite safely and mostly-comfortably, all year round. I have no idea how I could cope living somewhere like New York where the heat and snow would leave me with about four months a year in which to run outside, with the rest of the time on a treadmill or running at 4am to beat the sun.
Anyway, it was only about 17°C yesterday (the low sixties) so hardly extreme weather, and yet I huffed and puffed my way through it.
I really shouldn’t complain though, when it looked like this outside:
I wore a running vest and my summer running gloves. Always with the gloves. What can I say? I get cold hands.
Six miles @ 8:00. There were no niggles, which I was pleased about having run 13 miles on Thursday and then 12 miles on Monday. I always worry that, as I push myself, things will start to go wrong and I’ll feel an injury creeping on. I have been careful not to increase my distance too quickly and I am building on a solid base of miles.
Still – injury isn’t always fair, so I am pleased to say nothing fell off or exploded on yesterday’s run.
I then spent a few minutes in front of this fan. You know; hot stuff.
I had dinner plans with my brother. We’ve been wanting to go to Dip & Flip for some time, but like all the trendy hangouts, it doesn’t take bookings which is a source of huge irritation to me. Notionally it is good enough that it’s worth queuing for, but I struggle with this concept. For me eating out is a bigger experience than just the food, and starting the night with a queue….it just doesn’t float my boat.
Still, it’s been on the agenda for too long, so we went for it. We met up early to try to nab a table before it got busy. This suited my brother too, since he is living out of London now and would need to travel home. It is pretty local to me, so I took the best method of transport there is:
(Now, cycling in the sunshine I LOVE LOVE LOVE).
The food was pretty good! I mean, I wouldn’t queue for it, but it was tasty. I had a green chili burger, which had some kick, but was entirely edible (where the one at Meat Liquor absolutely is not). I also had a side of cheese chips and gravy, which granted sounds terrible, but was delicious.
The “dip” element is all about gravy, so every burger comes with a dipping pot.
The below photo makes it look a bit rank: great food, poor photography. (It doesn’t help that I’ve clearly splashed gravy everywhere, and discarded by pickles).
I then had a lovely cycle home, just as it was getting dark. It was still warm, but not too hot, and there wasn’t much traffic.