Well led.

Alex, a very fast new runner on the Wednight run. Small, slightly stooped, balding. Pleasant, very English. Fast, and powerful on the uphills in a way that reminds you of the very best of fell runners. He looks fragile, but keeping up with him on Old Peak Road is a profoundly hurtful experience. He goes up with a kind of deferential shuffle that nevertheless breaks your will. Last Wednight he hit the top of the climb a hundred metres ahead of me. Without blowing too much smoke up my own ass, there's not many people who can do that.

But he slacked off on the long downhill and even more on the contour trail. He was in road shoes, carrying a very little torch, struggling with the humidity, and happy to chat with Chuck who was also hanging off the back. The drop in pace after that hard climb made me feel very relaxed, riding the trail in that loose-legged way that is very satisfying.

We had a brief talk about science and religion.

When we hit the road, I said I wasn't going back into the shiggy because it's a tricky trail and I was in nice road shoes, so we ran down Conduit. Here I suddenly felt full of energy- inspiration, the ability to run very hard withiut feeling like it was killing me. All the way to Garden Road, a great speeding skimming burst to cross the nasty intersections then down, down to the Peak Tram. I didn't look back much.

When we stopped it finally hit me- oxygen debt- and Alex said "That was well led."