“I love darkness” a light blue night sky silhouettes Kendal’s castle. Stars wait patiently above for us to spring into action when our relay partners hurtle downhill signalling the impending doom of our leg.

“No head torches insight. Lovely isn’t it?” I’m pretty sure I’m complaining about running more than the rest of our little pack. We all have our game plans. Mine is to be completely honest about how much I’m enjoying not running.

Some of my friends have a saying ‘if you can’t taste blood you’re not trying hard enough.’ I can generally taste blood during a Helm Hill session. Sometimes, like last night at a Kendal Athletics Club session, I’m fighting the embarrassment of throwing up at the end as well.

It’s a strange feeling, that metallic taste in your mouth induced by exercise. If you’re not addicted to sport you’d probably think we were crazy to be aiming for that, but knowing you’ve pushed yourself to the limit fills me with the calmest feeling of sated contentment.

But it might just be paying off. Fell runners are very encouraging. If someone passes you, it’s customary to say something like ‘go on!’ or ‘great running’ (usually in sheer wonder that they have managed to make their legs go any faster, because you can’t push any harder).

But every now and again someone comments on your running in a cool down or jog rest. I’m always amazed when someone tells me I’m running well or getting stronger, but several people have commented in recent weeks. Perhaps it’s actually true? The downside is, it’s usually followed with ‘you should be starting further back Fiona’, and that means running even harder.