In search of freelance chickens

It’s hard to know where to start, other than to confess that I’m having difficulty settling on a name for this week’s post.  Candidates were: Debb’s pyjamas, Old MacDonald’s farm (remix version), Richard Pierce to the rescue, Sore arches, Lost AGAIN! or Wellington runners.  As you can see, I settled for something completely different, referring to something Nick said whilst pished the other evening!

This morning started late (again) and with a slight mist shrouding a clearly beautiful day.  Mistrustful of the temperature that this suggested, I kitted up with my longs and two layers up top and got out into it.  I had decided over coffee that I would take a different route today and had poured over the map trying to memorise a potential route.  The route took me up to Ote Hall, with it’s stunning chimneys, across to where Wivelsfield church is (in a future life I think I’d like to come back as the Rev for Wivelsfield church as the Vicarage must have one of the most gorgeous southerly views in this whole area!) and around to the north of Wivelsfield.

Debbs, one of Daren’s crazy American friends (and now ours too!!), had tried to convince us that she’d seen Llamas whilst out on a walk… we knew that this was a WMD-esque story so had not believed her, but here they were, running around like short-necked giraffes, or maybe long-necked mules.

The countryside on this side of Wivelsfield is beautiful and it was a real joy to be running through on this stunning morning.  From there I dropped down through the middle of the village and on to Hundred Acre Lane for a short way, before disappearing into the woods that make up part of my more normal route.  This will definitely be a lovely run once autumn really kicks in, as there will be piles of leaves to crunch through!  The path eventually spat me out at the northern end of Spatham Lane on Ditchling Common.  I was in the process of pausing, wanting to continue on unfamiliar terrain but unsure where to go, when along the road came a runner who turned down it.

Richard Pierce agreed that I could tag along for a while and we chatted amiably as he took me steadily away from home.  In training for the New York marathon, he was doing a regular 20 mile training run and was clearly on top of the task, keeping a perfectly steady pace all the way down the lane. 

Scared that I might end up at the top of Ditchling Beacon with Richard if I didn’t look sharp, I took my leave and headed down a path going west towards Ditchling, hoping to catch one going straight back to the Hill.  Instead I found a sign saying, Danger: Archery in Progress.  They seemed slightly grumpy (at least no-one said good morning back to me!) so I decided they must be protecting the path that I wanted to take.  Prudence being the better part of valour, I continued on the one passing behind them that seemed only mildly dangerous.

Somewhere here I must have gone slightly wrong, as I quickly found myself crossing Spatham Lane in an easterly direction.  I might have gone wrong where I had to unhook and re-hook five electric fences in a field of horses, or maybe where I had to persuade some cows to move out of the way of a style, but more likely in the scary field of freelance chickens (what does Nick mean, I wonder?) where I really feared for my life. 

A few years ago I was paddling with Cliff & Dai in the Wye valley when the thousand or so sheep on the hillside above us started baaa-ing.  It was a VERY SPOOKY sound and made us all a little uncomfortable… and the chickens in this field did something similar.  Imagine the first part of a clucking sound, where it kind of winds up to the cluck itself… the whole field of chickens started making this noise, sounding a little like a not too distant racing car getting up to speed.

To the east of Spatham Lane is Mid Sussex Golf Cluband I now found myself running through this, though there were too many stray balls laying on the path to be really comfortable about it.  I was now heading almost due east, very much not the ideal direction, but eventually I found the lovely path from Westmeston which sneaks under the railway line by an idyllic cottage with its own ford and gives access to Blackbrook Wood, Ditchling Common and home!

Although I had commented to a couple of dog walkers that I was hot at around the 35 minute mark, it was only now that I twigged there was something I could do about it, taking off my hat and top layer and unzipping my longs to make flairs!

Bearing in mind I went out for an hour or so to break some new ground, I was quite pleased to come back strong at 2 hours, four minutes, whilst my dodgy distance calculations showed just over twelve miles, or 19.5km.  I’ve finally twigged that the reason for my slow pace is because I’m forever running on muddy tracks, so I feel confident of a sub two-hour time on the country roads that make up the Barns Green Half.

There’s still time to sign up, but if it’s really too much, then at least come along on the 28th and cheer the rest of us along.  So far I think it’ll be Dai, Nick, Cliff, Kim and I… and I’m hoping that Kurt will be there with my socks too!