One run too far?

I somehow managed to sleep in this morning, not waking until after 10am. I never do this! I guess it's a sign that mind and body are running tired. My plan to get some chores out of the way went out of the window, although I did do the essentials of food shopping and laundry before getting out for a run. I thought I'd just get in one last good quality session before winding down towards the Masters. I went out past the Cow and Calf, climbing up just short of the Pancake Stone, then down to the beck and up to the cairn before returning back via White Wells, about 4.5 miles at a good pace, feeling strong and remembering why it is that running will always remain my first love. When you are feeling good and fit there is nothing quite like the exhilarating rhythm of running trails at a pace.

Hatched a plan with M to get out somewhere a little different for a cycle this afternoon. After a quick look at the map I suggested driving to Thirsk and doing a circuit on the west side of the North York Moors. We found a delightful pub in the village of Felixkirk and from there headed to Boltby and Hawnby, from where we were lured onto the moorland road north and west to Osmotherley. The hills were steep and unrelenting, and the countryside incredibly beautiful: secret valleys, woodland, heather-clad hills, ancient byways, immaculately kept villages. It had everything. Having lived in Cheltenham once, I was minded to describe it to M as the Cotswolds of the north. There was the same kind of quintessentially English feel.

From Osmotherley we took a route back that hugged the side of the escarpment. It looked flattish on the map but continued to undulate and offer more incredible countryside and perfect back lanes. The one blot was having to use the A19 trunk road for about half a mile, but even this had the reward of offering us the sight of some major time-trial that was going on. I would guess that it was a big 100 miler from the amazing number of riders spread out, going both ways up and down the dual carriageway. I matched the speed of one rider who came past, just for a short while, but long enough to decide that this branch of the sport holds very little appeal. It's simply gruelling. Head down for hours on end, in a constant stream of heavy traffic. It was great to watch for a while, and the speed of some of the riders simply awesome, but I was very happy to return to the country lanes and head back to Felixkirk via Cowesby and Kirby Knowle. Our route was only 27 miles in total but it felt like a lot further than that in terms of all the hills. It was wonderful to discover such a beautiful little spot so close to home. It took my mind off the fact that I had started to feel a bit of a twinge in the calf during the ride. I'm not sure what to make of it right now, but it isn't quite right and it's in exactly the same spot as where I pulled the muscle a couple of months back. It's tightened up tonight and I'm trying to ignore it at the moment. I'm really hoping that my run this morning wasn't one run too far!