The joy of an early morning jog

I usually go out for a jog in the evening or at lunchtime. The only exception is Saturdays when I attend the Parkrun at 9am. However a lot of people seem to go out before work in the early hours. This has always appealed to me but I have a well established morning routine and haven't wanted to break it. Until today.

The alarm woke me at 6am and I clambered out of bed bleary eyed. As it’s the height of summer the sun was already shining and had been up an hour longer than me. I quickly pulled on my t-shirt, shorts and compression socks, grabbed my trainers and, after a quick warm up, I was off.

The day was already warming up but there was still a cool breeze. My hay fever has been bad this week and I hoped that being out early would reduce the potential for itchy eyes, scratchy throat and tight lungs.

My legs felt heavy and my vision remained blurred for the first mile as my brain started to consider where I was going. Opting for an initial downhill route I headed for the river. There weren't many people around but I wanted to avoid the main roads and housing estates when possible.

I was running at around a nine minute pace and my legs were feeling strong. I was breathing gently and began to see why people raved about their dawn runs. When I arrived at the path along the river there were dozens of rabbits on it and they scattered as I approached. There was birdsong all around me as I took in the scene.

Crossing the river over a small stone bridge I began the climb through the fields, over the train tracks and through the farm leading to the woods. The last time I ran through here it was early summer and now the tracks were overgrown with nettles and ferns. I brushed through the ferns and danced through the nettles trying to avoid their barbs.

The sunlight was glancing through the treetops and pooling on the floor in front of me. Under foot the path was soft and spongy with a layer of leaf compost and pine needles. There was a break in the foliage and I burst out into the sunlight and a field of wheat.

At this point I could have turned back but a narrow footpath beckoned and I felt the need to explore. I was soon surrounded by green wheat heads – not my normal morning cereal!

A mile on I realised I didn’t know where I was. I hadn’t lost my bearings as I knew which way took me towards home but I was in a part of the town I had never encountered before.

Eventually I emerged on a housing estate which I could only assume was either Kings Heath or Duston; it was the former. I recognised a street near to where I used to live and before long I was heading home. I was beginning to sweat as the sun’s heat increased. I was four miles out and 35 minutes into my hour.

The main road was busy and the noise of the traffic was a stark contrast to the peaceful birdsong I had been enjoying for the last 20 minutes. As soon as I could I turned off and made my way back along the river parallel to the train line.

A commuter train whizzed past and I thought of the people sitting cooped up in their seats, their phone in their hand or newspaper open oblivious to the natural world outside their window. I remembered times when I had been that person and had glanced out to see someone jogging through the fields and felt a pang of jealousy and a desire to swap places. Today it was me and I appreciated it all the more.

Passing Kingsthorpe Village and a field full of horses I rejoined the path with the rabbits. A mile to go and I would be home. It was uphill all the way and I enjoyed pushing the pace knowing that I had five minutes to get in the shower before the rest of the family would want to use the bathroom.

Arriving home I checked my Garmin. Seven point two miles in an hour and five minutes. It was 7:15 am. Now I know why people go for a jog in the morning. My mind felt fresh and invigorated, endorphins were rushing around my body and it felt good. Maybe morning running is for me after all.