Karen writes: waxing lyrical...

Visualise running comfortably along the centre of a narrow country road in Northland, there is a nice track in the middle where the car tyres have pushed the gravel to one side, the dirt is hard packed and level and ever-so slightly damp so there is no troublesome dust, it is a perfect surface for running on.   You run on with the dense native bush crowding in on one side of the road, farmland stretching away on the other, and admire too the sky which is a beautiful clear winter blue.  The distance is measured by mouldering wooden fenceposts, its a perfectly picturesque setting for running.   And it feels fabulous, the air is cool and fresh, there is the lightest of mild breezes, and with the only sounds being the birds and your feet scuffling the road surface, how peaceful.   In 70 minutes, no cars go past while you enjoy the rolling terrain, and each new and spectacular view as you top each rise.  How can you resist turning up a road called “blue horizon” into a steep and challenging climb upwards for what seems like forever until you arrive at the top sweating and exultant where you look out to uninterrupted sea, the blue horizon.   Bliss. 

Of course having used all your energy on that last climb you then have to turn around and slog home again up all those hills which are no longer ‘rolling’ but apparently vertical, the views aren’t a novelty anymore, the lovely cool weather means you dare not stop or you will chill, and the lack of traffic now simply means you aren’t going to be able to hitch a lift home, but really, what a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.