The front door opens and Lilly is off like a shot, the rope lead runs out and with a snap Yanks me out of the doorway into the light morning drizzle, off we go then…
I had awoke to the radio and early morning light spilling under the gap of the window blind, bleary eyes tried to focus upon the outside world to determine what the weather was doing, a process of cold or too cold or rainy or too rainy go back to bed or get out the door then followed as I stumbled around trying not to wake the entire house.
As I reach for my running shoes Lilly finally cottons on to whats happening and goes hyper, a blur of wildly circling labrador. Lead and harness are fitted and my hand grips the door handle.
Despite my protestations, Lilly seems determined that this run, this morning, will be at olympic marathon pace, I try to channel my inner Usain Bolt, but to no avail, by the end of the road my dead weight has managed to slack the pace off a little to the point that I know I’m not going to pass out and throw up, but were still going almighty quick.
We pass by early morning dog walkers ambling at a sedate pace in the opposite direction, I wave cheerfully as I have no capability for speech, my breathing is now ragged and my lungs are burning. Finally at the field gate Lilly stops, we enter the field lane at a more gentlemanly pace, a forceful dart to the undergrowth explains the ballistic start to the proceedings, Lilly it would seem has a prefered ‘spot’ to attend her morning requirements. She’s well-trained too as the dog poo bin is a matter of yards away!
A we approach the woods my brain has a chance to catch up and take in the morning, the slight drizzle has gone, but the dampness has boosted the scent of the trees and grasses around us I’m sure I catch a waft of late meadow flowers, the damp soil underfoot softens my footfall.
Past lazing cows in another field we head for the river, Lilly once again picks up the pace, an early morning swim is granted and she torpedoes into the rivers flow. Overnight rain has swelled the river, peat carried down from the high moor has turned the river into a rich dark Ale colour. Mmmmm Ale, maybe later.
Her majesty finishes her swim and delights in showering me with river water as I clip the lead in once more, time to head home for breakfast. On our return leg Lilly is running with the lead slack between us, a marked contrast from the outward leg were I just felt like a passenger, we make good time, the more we run together the better we get at coordinating feet, paws and lead, it is quite delightful not to be the only one panting at the end of a run.
Singin la la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la la-la.