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Joys of The Greening Earth - April 2009
If an addiction to running is known as “the running bug”, does that make me a “running bugger”? As it happens, Nicky often calls me something very similar when I burn toast or forget where I’ve put my keys, and I’ve been called far worse over the years, but, whatever you may call me, there’s no denying that I am well and truly hooked on running. I never, ever thought I would utter these words, but it’s true – I have been enjoying running more than I ever thought possible. I’m in the park three times a week, rain or shine (well, ok, not rain – just shine), and when I’m not actually running I’m thinking about my next run. I don’t know why on earth I didn’t take it up before.
Actually, that’s not strictly true. I know exactly why I didn’t take it up before – I just couldn’t be bothered. In addition, I had been put off by the multitude of urban legends about nasty running injuries. Blisters, snapped hamstrings and chafed nipples? No thanks! Worst of all was that I simply couldn’t see myself ever being a graceful, gazelle-like runner, and winced at the thought of inflicting my puffing, wheezing body upon the park- and pavement-users of my neighbourhood. However, given that running is free of charge (apart from the one-off purchase of running shoes), and, given that it’s supposedly one of the best forms of exercise there is, I figured I had nothing to lose by trying.
What I love about the park where I go running, aside from the fact that it’s free of perverts and drug pushers, is being able to see subtle changes in nature over time. As I lurch my way round the circular path running the perimeter of the park I notice that the daffodils on the first stretch are looking slightly less proud than they were the previous week, or that the blossoms on the forsythia tree on the second stretch are slowly, but surely, being conquered by new shoots of green leaves. I would never experience these tiny signs of the turning of the Wheel whilst sweating away on a bleeping machine in a windowless, airless gym; there’s definitely something about exercising outdoors which is good for the soul.
Our environmental pursuits took an interesting turn last weekend when Nicky and I turned our lights off to mark Earth Hour. Unfortunately, for such a worthwhile event, we didn’t really feel it was publicised enough – we got to hear about it at a late stage, and so didn’t have time to organise ourselves and join in any of the related events that were going on around London. Instead, we decided to make our own event by driving up to the top of Harrow on the Hill at the designated hour and watching the whole of West London plunge into darkness. Unfortunately it didn’t quite work out the way we had expected, as the lights we could see from our viewing platform were, in fact, street lights and not house ones, but we did see the Wembley arch disappear from view at precisely 8:30pm.
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