York 9AM Daily
So mid-way through last semester I began a fitness regime. By this I mean I started actually doing some form of physical activity to compensate my rubbish diet of too many snacks and not enough veg, with a rather large amount of alcohol to help it go down. I then had a break during my six week Christmas holidays because I was working too hard and eating too much (any excuse), but I have just got back into it and plan on continuing this time.
Due to the fact that I haven't got a single 9AM contact hour at uni all week until Friday, I use running as a way to force myself out of bed and prevent me from turning into a sloth for 12 weeks. This has proved successful for the past two mornings, although I did have to give myself a talking to and cancel out all the excuses I was making: still recovering from my cough? Nope, that was last week's excuse. It's raining? Well, it wasn't. I haven't got my running stuff...it was folded in a neat pile on the floor ready to go. So I went.
9AM in York is a peaceful time. We've past the frantic rush of everyone busying themselves to work and school, and though there are many cars on the roads, the pavements are pretty clear. I do pass the same late runners who briskly half walk - half skip so that they don't look as though they are in a rush even though I know they are desperate to just peg it. Late for work or late for Uni, they look just the same. There are the lazy dog walkers who either don't want to get out of bed early, or their dogs are socially inept and can't handle passing other dogs on the run. The sides of the pavements are full of recycling boxes put out for collection, the rubbish blowing everywhere so by the time the bin men come the boxes are probably empty. Shifty looking men enter the sandwich shop that I run past and the most logical explanation for their odd manner is because it is 9 AM and they haven't yet adjusted to the day, however I come up with some exciting story such as 'running away from a serial killer or psychotic ex-wife'. This livens up my runs. Occasionally, I run far enough out to find some beautiful countryside by the river, a footpath that hasn't been trampled into mud and this reminds me warmly of home. 9 AM in York is a wonderful time!
Due to the fact that I haven't got a single 9AM contact hour at uni all week until Friday, I use running as a way to force myself out of bed and prevent me from turning into a sloth for 12 weeks. This has proved successful for the past two mornings, although I did have to give myself a talking to and cancel out all the excuses I was making: still recovering from my cough? Nope, that was last week's excuse. It's raining? Well, it wasn't. I haven't got my running stuff...it was folded in a neat pile on the floor ready to go. So I went.
9AM in York is a peaceful time. We've past the frantic rush of everyone busying themselves to work and school, and though there are many cars on the roads, the pavements are pretty clear. I do pass the same late runners who briskly half walk - half skip so that they don't look as though they are in a rush even though I know they are desperate to just peg it. Late for work or late for Uni, they look just the same. There are the lazy dog walkers who either don't want to get out of bed early, or their dogs are socially inept and can't handle passing other dogs on the run. The sides of the pavements are full of recycling boxes put out for collection, the rubbish blowing everywhere so by the time the bin men come the boxes are probably empty. Shifty looking men enter the sandwich shop that I run past and the most logical explanation for their odd manner is because it is 9 AM and they haven't yet adjusted to the day, however I come up with some exciting story such as 'running away from a serial killer or psychotic ex-wife'. This livens up my runs. Occasionally, I run far enough out to find some beautiful countryside by the river, a footpath that hasn't been trampled into mud and this reminds me warmly of home. 9 AM in York is a wonderful time!
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