After a slightly more intense (not to mention hot, as their air conditioning had broken down) than normal 9-hour immersion session with a new client on Friday, followed by an almost 2-hour return rail journey, I did very little yesterday other than read, relax and, um, sleep. And very restful it was too, laying on the recliner in the heat of the afternoon, imagining I could hear the swish of the waves gently lapping at the beach.
Until about 6pm when the heat dropped sufficiently for action-Foster to dash a second coat on most of the back wall of the house.
This morning, despite rising relatively early, I was captivated by my new book (Robin Dunbar is right when he says that we are fascinated by people and behaviour… this book is about the behaviour of the small number of people who drove the recent financial meltdown and it is riviting) and didn’t emerge to run until 7.40am, by which time it was already hot. My intentions had been grandiose, but I soon realised, having run in the open as far as Ote Hall, that I needed to find some tree-cover lest I melt.
Thus I found myself running through Wivelsfield as the Burgess Hill Runners were setting up the course for this morning’s Wivelsfield Woodland Wobble. It was a shame I didn’t know it was on as I might have run it, but starting at 11am it would surely be a scorcher and I was already feeling somewhat humid.
I headed for home through the cool shelter of the Magical Path, covering 6.2 miles in 1 hour exactly.