The Loneliness of the Long-distance Runner

The fog in the valley was much thicker than it was yesterday so when I set off for a run this morning I wasn't entirely sure whether I'd be able to get above it. When I got to the point where I broke into the light yesterday the mist was still very thick. A little further up however there was a distinct brightening of the sky and I felt that familiar sense of anticipation when I know I'm going to soon emerge into the sun. I'm glad to say that I still experience a visceral thrill in that moment of appearing from the cloud into bright sunlight and blue skies. The magic has never gone away!

My most memorable moments in the mountains have been in these conditions. The best of all was on Mount Taranaki in New Zealand. I had climbed from the cloud base at 3,000 feet through almost a vertical mile of thick mist to 8,000 feet and emerged into the sun just a few feet short of the summit. It was quite extraordinary to have this vast sea of cloud spilling out in every direction virtually from my feet. Almost all of these magical occasions have been experienced on my own. You are possibly more in touch with the mountains when by yourself but there are occasions when you really want to have someone beside you to share the wonder of what you are seeing. Yesterday was like that. It was so amazing, and there were so many "OMG" moments, that there was a little sadness at not being able to share them with someone.

I emerged out of the mist very abruptly today (see here the tide of mist creeping up the moor) into incredibly clear air and could immediately see a runner coming down over the newly laid flagstones. In that moment, caught in a reflective mood, I suddenly saw myself as others must see me. This is a kind of self-portrait! The tide continued to advance so it was only the very highest plateau of the moor that remained in sunshine, and incredibly warm it was too. I was in no rush to re-enter the clag so I took a very leisurely jog with lots of stops ... in shirtsleeves! When I did eventually come down I encountered this remarkable phenomenon, a whitewashed rainbow where the sun was illuminating the wall of mist! I've never seen anything quite like it before. Not sure how to explain it either! Any ideas?

On my return home, after midday, both my sons were still in bed, a little hungover from the weekend's celebrations (more of that tomorrow as I've written enough tonight already). Determined that they were to enjoy what I had been enjoying all weekend I dragged them up Beamsley Beacon in the afternoon. We only just made it into the sun, and it wasn't as dramatic there as I'd hoped it would be, but it was lovely to be able to share my love of this hill with them - and if you want to look here I think you'll agree that they seem to be enjoying themselves!