The sun bears down on me as I push my left foot back and give that calf muscle a stretch. I’m sweating already and curse the fact I haven’t even started on my run yet.
The stretch of the muscle feels good given its still a little sore after my last run and I look down to see my running shoe stretched out in unison. Counting to thirty in my head, I then switch feet and feel the same stretching sensation but this time in my right calf.
A shadow all of a sudden flashes just above my head and I duck quickly to avoid whatever it is. A little wince of pain then goes through my foot as it moves into a strange angle. Ahhh, it was just a bird flying metres away with no apparent danger. The power of the illusion of a shadow.
After some further stretches and a walk down toward the bikeway, I recognise my usual starting spot of a large pylon holding up the Riverside Expressway and push off. The Brisbane River on my left and a bland government building on my right. The river is still a heavy brown colour from the recent floods but it’s at a more tamer regular level. Debris high up in a barrier fence tells a story of what happened here just a few weeks ago though.
The first impact down on the concrete pavement is uncomfortable as the pressure bearing down on my left Achilles comes as a shock. My other leg quickly follows though and it’s into an easy rhythm quite quickly. Looking ahead, I can see workmen in flouro vests standing around watching a bobcat dig and lift. Their heads follow the movement of the bucket but no other part of their body moves at all. They look like laughing clowns at a sideshow alley. And just as colourful.
A sign above the workmen says “North Quay 1”, getting bigger and bigger as I approach. The tarmac underneath then changes as a result of new concrete having been poured. It causes me to stumble slightly and I have to look down to rearrange my feet and my stride.
It gets dark all of a sudden as the path leads into a tunnel-like area underneath the expressway and the Victoria Bridge. Its eerily quiet as the sights and sounds of the city above can’t be heard and I’m able to hear my laboured breathing and the sound of shoe hitting pavement. There’s light coming through up ahead though which enables me to see another runner coming towards me. It causes me to move across to the left a little to allow him to pass as my wrist drops to my hip to avoid the nearby wall.
My eyes narrow all of a sudden as brilliant sunshine takes over and I’m led up an embankment by the path over and above the river. The extreme noise of the traffic from the expressway returns and I look up to my right to see the traffic and the Kurilpa Bridge sitting high above it.
From this angle, the Bridge looks like it’s all around me with its twisting masts and poles but I’m soon away from its sharp shadow and the heat of the sun is again felt on my forehead and exposed arms. I resolve to make this run shorter than usual as the summer midday heat is not conducive to this sort of activity. What’s that saying? Mad dogs and Englishmen…
I push on nonetheless and try and do the calculations in my head. To the Go-Between and back would be 5km. Is that enough? Should I try and go further? Up to the old Drift Restaurant perhaps? A large drip of sweat then falls from the end of my nose and I’m forced to remove more from my eyes by scrunching up my shirt to wipe them. That answers my question and the decision is made. 5km will be more than enough.
The river and the path then take a sharp turn left and I can see down to the William Jolly Bridge and the shadow it is creating on the path up ahead. My pace quickens unconsciously as a result, as the allure of a break from the unrelenting sun takes over. I can then almost feel the coolness of the shadow before looking over and seeing an older runner shuffling along in the opposite direction with her head down trying to protect her eyes, just as I was doing moments ago.
I’m feeling good now that I’m out of the glare and have forgotten about my enhanced pace. I'm quickly reminded though as the shadow recedes and a rise in the path presents itself alongside Coronation Drive. My quads and glutes are quickly labouring and my breathing is heavy as I attempt to negotiate what seems like a ‘mountain’.
Eventually getting to the top, the path winds its way paralell to the river and I have to duck a little to avoid an overhanging tree. Once passed it, I can see the Go-Between Bridge ahead with the kaleidoscope of its blue and green painted side striking me as strange. It’s a welcome sight nonetheless as it marks my turnaround point and a chance for a quick stretch and a breather before heading back.
Having done the stretch and checking my watch for the time, I twist away from the Bridge and take a first step. Like last time, the impact is felt through my entire body and the next few strides are uncomfortable and gangly. But I’m soon into a rhythm once again and my mind starts to wander.
The fatigue in my leg muscles dissipates and I find myself forgetting the sun and the concrete and the sweat and the noise. It’s taken a while but finally the endorphins have kicked in and my runner high is reaching its peak.
Alone with only my thoughts and imagination. And enjoying the pleasure of exertion after hours stuck behind a desk. There’s no better place to be right now and no better thing to be doing.
So I ponder whether that saying needs to be changed. It’s not just mad dogs and Englishmen...
EDM.
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