The calm after the storm

Storm Bert was wild, but fun to run through - but how about some opening words on Ireland?

The sun is out here in Devon this Monday afternoon, and the world seems to be breathing a big sigh of relief, like it has just finished a short but brutal ultra in the mountains. All weekend the winds lashed the trees, as the recycling boxes skidded down the roads, tiles fell off roofs - including our roof - and rivers swelled beyond bursting, leaving some of my usual trails deep under water.

But today all is calm, the rivers have thankfully dropped - at least here in Devon. The leaves and branches across the roads, and the delayed trains, are the last remnants of Storm Bert, which battered the UK these past few days.

It was a good weekend not to have a race, or a running weekend on Dartmoor, planned. And I almost didn’t run at all. On Saturday morning, I lay in bed listening to the wind howling, the rain rattling the window, and I thought better of heading out. “It would be madness,” I told myself. “Dangerous even.”