I often think about a time when Richard Askwith said - maybe it was even on our retreat - that he doesn't like wearing a head torch, because it means he "can't see". One day I want to ask him more about that, because I think I sort of understand, but definitely sort of don't. Does it depend on what you want to see? Without the headtorch, you can see the moon, the stars, the colour of dark. But maybe, like your man in the common, some people really did eat all their carrots as a child.
If “carrot man” (as he is now known) runs that route all the time, he probably doesn’t need to see where he’s going. The ever so subtle variances in the level of darkness might be enough.
I feel as though the headtorch dazzles the environment. The things it hits are bright, making the things in shadow seem darker. And it also focusses all your attention on the beam. The periphery gets lost. So you can see the thing you’re looking at, but not much else. Maybe that’s what Richard meant?
Oh boy! Yes good points. And if you know where you’re going, you want to see the periphery. Actually, I also often think about this with technical terrain: the stuff I run on every day is no less technical than a trail race elsewhere, it’s just suddenly tricky because it’s unfamiliar. I suppose this is the same. One wants to be the equivalent of headtorch-less on all terrain. And Kilian says to learn to run fast on technical terrain by closing your eyes…
I often think about a time when Richard Askwith said - maybe it was even on our retreat - that he doesn't like wearing a head torch, because it means he "can't see". One day I want to ask him more about that, because I think I sort of understand, but definitely sort of don't. Does it depend on what you want to see? Without the headtorch, you can see the moon, the stars, the colour of dark. But maybe, like your man in the common, some people really did eat all their carrots as a child.
If “carrot man” (as he is now known) runs that route all the time, he probably doesn’t need to see where he’s going. The ever so subtle variances in the level of darkness might be enough.
I feel as though the headtorch dazzles the environment. The things it hits are bright, making the things in shadow seem darker. And it also focusses all your attention on the beam. The periphery gets lost. So you can see the thing you’re looking at, but not much else. Maybe that’s what Richard meant?
Or maybe not?
Oh boy! Yes good points. And if you know where you’re going, you want to see the periphery. Actually, I also often think about this with technical terrain: the stuff I run on every day is no less technical than a trail race elsewhere, it’s just suddenly tricky because it’s unfamiliar. I suppose this is the same. One wants to be the equivalent of headtorch-less on all terrain. And Kilian says to learn to run fast on technical terrain by closing your eyes…