Another day, another experimental commute, this time running on the way in*. The advantage of this over running on the way home is that I get to see daylight** and I don’t have to wait (and wait and wait and wait) for the bus to Morden, but the price I pay is joining the tube after it has turned into a sardine can*** and having a deadline for arriving. I did consider sticking the run at the far end of the journey in, but couldn’t face the hill**** again quite so soon.
* Translation: running in the morning. [shudders]
** Or more accurately, dull, grey, overcast not-darkness
*** And the price the other sardines pay is being that tightly squished in with a run-fresh commuter.
**** It’s wholly runnable, but looooong. On the plus side, once you’re over the top of it, you have a looooong, running-goddess down.