Having turned down the opportunity to go for a Juneathon run around the block with Run or Go Crazy on the grounds that my training plan called for a hill session, I felt that opting out of the hill session would be just plain rude. So despite the fact that I really didn’t feel the running love, I dragged my sorry carcass out of the door for some hills.
Hills on some of the most hostile terrain I have ever run on*. The trees overhung the pavement, ready to slice the scalps off the unwary. The hedges encroached onto the pavement, ready to whip out an unprotected eyeball or two. The brambles extended thin tendrils, lacerating uncovered arms and legs. The paving stones arranged themselves at weird and wonderful angles, waiting for a trailing toe or wobbling ankle, and the tarmac bulged over thickened tree roots to finish the job.
I didn’t sustain any serious injuries, and I did end up with an inadvertent example of reptilian run art.
*Possibly a slight overstatement.