Another morning, another Clap’ham Common plod. There’s a definite shifting of the decades here. I’m running back in time. The weekend always started with a Clap’ham run twenty years ago. It usually ended there as well.
These days the weekly SW4 run has become a daily habit. It’s an addiction that I’m happy to live with.
Sunny Stockwell doesn’t stand still though. A gathering of around twenty or so club riders were waiting to roll out by the Stockwell tube rendez vous. A cycling club based around SW8 would have been unthinkable back in the day. Change is good.
In was a beautiful, chilled Clap’ham blue sky morning. I pressed on up Clap’ham High Street. The reflections from the mosaics lining the Mediterranean restaurants were radiant. I’ve long since thought that my patch has a southern weather micro climate.
It was still a little breezy underneath my cheapo Lidl running layers. I got a shifty on. The stretch to Clap’ham South tube was cast in shadow; turn the corner along The Avenue and the sun was in my face. I’m convinced I picked up the first sign of a South London tan for the season.
My route was delayed by a couple of ducks in my path. RESPECT to the early morning SW4 skateboard kids pulling the tricks on the skatepark on the Common. Saturday mornings were an unknown entity to me at that age.
On the AirPods this morning was the latest podcast from Garibaldi Red. I consume Forest news and gossip like I once use to consume BOOZE. But even I had something of a Saturday morning hangover with a half hour chat about tactics from the 2003 season.
I had more left in the tank as I approached the possible Larkhall Park turn off. But work shifts were calling back in the flat.
In Shitty Running Shoes Laces News: Tight and just about holding it together this morning.
That’s my motto for the weekend.