I'm sure you've all heard tales about the mythical catbeast the roams the moors.
I headed off into these moors for a long run one dark silent night, headtorch blazing the path ahead of me.
The catbeast is in the back of my mind all the time.
I stop in a small dip in the landscape where a stream is flowing, so get a drink.
I look up at the brow of the dip, and reflecting back at me are two eyes, static, staring.
I freeze....could my days be numbered? Could the catbeast be real, and could I be its first human casualty?
I think to myself....make yourself big, shout, scream, scare it away.
I run toward the eyes, arms flailing, warcry loud and strong....
The eyes disapear as the beast turns and runs.....
Oh...whats that?.....white wooly fur?
Oh...its a sheep.
True story.
http://ultramarathonjohn.blogspot.com/ - My world in running.