...hills! Maybe its just because it's coming up to Christmas, coupled with the fact that I always have food on my mind, but as I was running up (and down) the (enormous) hill (2 1/2 times) this evening at training, I began comparing running hills to brussel sprouts. I found many surprising comparisons and not just that they're green... 'cos actually this hill wasn't, it was very frosty white! Anyway, I'm becoming distracted from the main point of my metaphor.
In order to connect with this, you really have to have an indisposition to brussel sprouts - not hate them, or indeed love them - but simply find them a little bit offensive; the trespasser of vegetables on your plate. When I was younger, my dad would always place two brussel sprouts on my plate at Christmas and tell me to eat them; they were good for me. I knew they were good for me and consequently would dutifully eat the two sprouts every Christmas. Even today, I don't hate them. I know they're good for me but there's something about that bitter taste which means I just can't ever enjoy them; yet, whenever I eat them a strange sense of pride will wash over me - another brussel sprout challenge accomplished!
In short, whilst I was running... and I might suggest here that yes, the cold had entered my brain and brought on a strange sort of madness, but... I was thinking that hills and brussel sprouts are, therefore, not so dissimilar: bitter, but good for you; someone else has to put them on my plate, I'd never choose them myself; but each hill session finished is another challenge accomplished.
... and sometimes they're both green!
Distance: 5.47 miles
Elevation: too high, too many times!
Weather: blooming freezing