“What time’s the alarm set for?”
“Half six. Breakfast and shower. I need to have left by half seven.”
I surfaced gradually and noted the daylight peeping through the curtains. Odd. It’s not usually light this early. What time is it? 07:38.
I may have sworn. I certainly leapt out of bed, threw on my cycling kit, stuffed my running kit haphazardly into a bag and legged it out the front door, praying that my sacrifices to the traffic light gods were up-to-date.
It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable parkrundays I’ve had for ages. I’d spotted two tourists before I’d locked up my bike (both local to Dulwich and happy to point me in the direction of the facilities) and the course was perfect for my all-out effort, with wide paths, sweeping turns and nothing more challenging than a gentle rise. Add to that a fellow windmiler and great post-parkrun company in the café and it couldn’t really get any better.
Though next time, I’ll be setting two alarms and saving myself some adrenaline.