Imagine it’s dark. Like proper dark. Not a sort of half-dark wishy washy sort of dark, but a real deep black sort of dark. Imagine you had a pot of black paint, and then left it in a dark cupboard. In a bag. At night.
That sort of dark.
So imagine it’s that dark and you’re going for a run. What item of clothing or accessory would you feel would be least useful in such a situation? That’s right. A pair of sunglasses. However, as I pounded for 10km along unlit, utterly dark rural French roads tonight I was indeed wearing a pair of underpowered prescription sunglasses. If you haven’t been following the blog so far, and I don’t blame you if you haven’t, yesterday’s post shows how a series of unfortunate occurences led me to be stuck in the world’s 5th largest economy without a pair of glasses for six days.
I’d never run in the dark before. I’d certainly never ran in an enhanced extra-dark where natural darkness was accentuated artificially by beachwear. To offset the fact I was in a world of dark I brought a headtorch. It’s not a great headtorch, and occasionally flickers when it bounces up and down. I figured I better supplement it with a bit of high visibility clothing. All I had was a fluorescent yellow jacket – the type you wear on the side of the road when your car breaks down. It was slightly big, and by the time I’d put it, the flickering head torch, my black cap, sunglasses and shorts on, quite frankly I looked absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Still, run every day, that’s the Janathon promise, so out I went. It was actually a quiet and peaceful run, all things considered. For me at least. I think the woman I passed letting her dog out for a wee may take a while to recover. Old, frail, and partially blinded by my flickering headtorch, I think all she could see was a ghostly fluorescent apparition with shoulders as wide as a truck and two dark pools when the eyes should have been. She certainly went back into her house quicker than she came out.
I’m hoping I achive local legend status and the French equivalent of the X-Files team come out to try to trap me.
I’ll be like a slightly crapper version of the Chupacabra. A mysterious figure that sweeps past in the night, wheezing, puffing and hunting for prey with its adaptive night vision. Be good children of France! Sleep well tonight! For he walks among you!
Jan 7, 2012 6:38 PM
106 m / 168 m
61 m ↑ / 50 m ↓