Karen writes: Strange run
Now that was a really strange run. It started off normally enough for a night-time run...ie, reluctantly. The whanau were happily eating dinner in a warm house as I donned the running gear and headed off into the dark. It wasn't cold once I had been running for a few minutes, the little blob of light from my headlamp zigzagged energetically along the road, and as unhappy muscles warmed up I thought "yes, I can do this".
I ran along the Maraetai beach waterfront and picked my way through the sand and seaweed washed up over the road and over the footpath, evidence of the predicted super-high tide. I thought about how the sea used to wash into those houses and shops but they are progressively getting replaced, lifted up, or are prepared with their polythene bags of sand in front of low doors. It was deceptively quiet at that hour, but there must have been some drama earlier in the day.
I headed back towards Omana, and enjoyed the effect of the thickening mist, then looked out to sea towards Waiheke at the twinkling lights in the distance and wondered what they saw looking back. Then I realised that at that point they weren't seeing anything, all of the houses along Omana were dark. What an eerie thing that turned out to be once I noticed that I was in a bobbing island of light all by myself, in the mist, no people, no cars, and the sea must have been still because there was no sound either. Once I started looking I could make out little flashing red lights which were the alarms on the houses, and looking closer still there were flickering candles in some windows. Everything suddenly seemed much less friendly and enjoyable and I felt a long way from home.
I did my 60 minutes and turned round to head back to Maraetai. There was sheet lightening to the South, I felt safe enough because I couldn't hear thunder, but by now I had had enough of the weird and wonderful and my imagination (result of adolescent addiction to Stephen King) was working overtime. Fortunately the lights were still on in Maraetai and it was nice to get home to the warm, have a hot shower and something to eat.
And of course, something else to write up in week 3 of my training diary!
I ran along the Maraetai beach waterfront and picked my way through the sand and seaweed washed up over the road and over the footpath, evidence of the predicted super-high tide. I thought about how the sea used to wash into those houses and shops but they are progressively getting replaced, lifted up, or are prepared with their polythene bags of sand in front of low doors. It was deceptively quiet at that hour, but there must have been some drama earlier in the day.
I headed back towards Omana, and enjoyed the effect of the thickening mist, then looked out to sea towards Waiheke at the twinkling lights in the distance and wondered what they saw looking back. Then I realised that at that point they weren't seeing anything, all of the houses along Omana were dark. What an eerie thing that turned out to be once I noticed that I was in a bobbing island of light all by myself, in the mist, no people, no cars, and the sea must have been still because there was no sound either. Once I started looking I could make out little flashing red lights which were the alarms on the houses, and looking closer still there were flickering candles in some windows. Everything suddenly seemed much less friendly and enjoyable and I felt a long way from home.
I did my 60 minutes and turned round to head back to Maraetai. There was sheet lightening to the South, I felt safe enough because I couldn't hear thunder, but by now I had had enough of the weird and wonderful and my imagination (result of adolescent addiction to Stephen King) was working overtime. Fortunately the lights were still on in Maraetai and it was nice to get home to the warm, have a hot shower and something to eat.
And of course, something else to write up in week 3 of my training diary!
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