Observations of an occasional runner
You may struggle to see what I did today, since this photo was taken after I’d spent yesterday working on it, but the tea-house is slowly progressing. And no, Cliff, I didn’t shun my run in favour of sitting around doing nought, despite the glorious weather!
Whilst an intention existed, it was not exercised, so Sunday has passed sans run.
Phew… what a manic week! I’m really glad it’s the weekend! Ah yes (at 9.30pm Sunday) was the weekend!
It’s rare that the comment precedes the post, but Nick managed to beat me by four days this time and since my memory fades after about five minutes, you’ve little hope of hearing very much more about Wednesday.
We ran pretty much the same route as the last two runs except for a small additional loop which made the mileage, courtesy of Nicks satellitical device, 7.09 miles. This was run largely in amiable conversation, except where he called me a wuss for wanting to keep my feet dry… and I reciprocated for the same reason later on.
So, how long did it take us? 63 minutes… which is not bad for a conversational trot. Of course the Bok actually got back 30 seconds ahead of me, demonstrating that he’s still the little league champ!
After attending Clive and Nat’s EXCELLENT party on Saturday night (the new extension is a real triumph guys!) I had only a brief window of running time yesterday morning. Cliff and I had discussed running together, but since he had wimped out of the party on account of having the sniffles (I think that he agreed he was a WUSS, although the rest of us are probably grateful that he didn’t share them with us!), I guessed he’d probably not be up to it.
More through being too lazy to devise another route than any desire to compare times (no, really!), I followed the same route that Dai, Daren & I ran last week.
It had been raining for most of the preceding 24 hours so I guessed it would be muddy, hence decided to wear the orange shoes, but I actually managed to find very little beyond surface mud… the MUD season has clearly not yet started in earnest! The shoes however, are great… go see Kurt at Run in Hove if you want to be prescribed something similar!
There are a few wooden bridges and stiles en-route and these were perilously slippery, but my ice-driving experience got me through!
Let’s cut to the chase, so to speak. The time last week (clearly hampered by a self-confessed Division 2 girl guide) was 75 minutes. My unstressed time for the 7 mile route yesterday was, er um, 62 minutes!
Which brings me to a question regarding Daren’s fitness league. How do we differentiate between the different players? Daren might complain that he’s slow, but if cheerfulness is taken into consideration, he’s way up at the front. Dai is clearly a contender too, as he can get up after months off and run that distance at that speed. Cliff and Pete, both a lot older than me, could run at that speed even if you made them go around the circuit 10 and 15 times respectively. Meanwhile Nick might only run it once, but it would be in about 14 minutes flat.
We clearly need a new differentiator. I propose an annual timed route of about ten or twelve miles, with a handicap system based on the number of miles run by the individual in the previous 12 months… which gives Daren a fighting chance, with only a 65m superyacht to run around for months on end!
To start the proposals coming in, may I put forward the route from my house to the Beacon and back, or alternatively Clayton Church to Blackcap & back. What say ye?
The last time I ran with Dai it was chucking it down with rain, so it was rather appropriate that Daren, Dai and I should choose this morning to run since it was once again precipitating in-extremis. In every other way though, it was a lovely day to go out running. And a good day to take the orange shoes for a spin.
We headed out past Ote Hall, getting a cheery wave from the lady of the manor as she drove past, out past the pyjama-llamas (I know Debbs, they’re Packham’s Alpacas really) and down into Wivelsfield village. Then up Hundred Acre Lane and down through the woods. It was all so beautiful, despite the rain.
Once past the industrial estate (hey Lou, your garage is about the size of my house!) we ran down the magical path and then back across the common to home.
The orange shoes performed well by all accounts and the soles were strangely cleaner at the end, but much wetter! There’s still little to beat running with friends (other than maybe eating breakfast with friends, or having a beer with friends). And I found this lovely photo of Daren & Dai hanging over a five-bar gate when they were much smaller.
Seven miles took us one hour fifteen, which must be under 6mph, but only because we were gassing so much!
Forasmuch as, forbearance, forerunner, foresee, foresight, formative, forte, forthright, fortitude, fortissimo, forty, ah, close… all the fours, forty-four. Bingo! It really was that kind of day yesterday! I guess I’ll have to be fortified next.
Construction in the garden continued unabated this weekend, hampered only by the available hours before darkness. It has started to take on a slight post-modernist Japanese Tea-House look, although across the whole weekend, the most enjoyable drink of the day was my morning coffee. Although that might have been because the myriad cups of Twinings Earl Grey I consumed were largely snatched whilst juggling tools & materials.
By the way, Earl Grey is the post-modernist Japanese Tea-House builders tea in this house-hold!
There is a great temptation to leave this to Cliff for a brief comment. Suffice to say that it’s amazing what you can do on a Bank Holiday weekend, even if you do spend the middle day recovering from a run!
Sat in the garden in the blazing sun this afternoon, you’d probably find it hard to believe just how wet it was on the Downs this morning when Cliff, Dai and I went for a run. Such was the inclemency of the day that my comrades both turned up wearing trail shoes, with gaiters! Had I thought, I could have brought mine, but then I would only have followed their lead like a sheep… a dangerous thing to be when Dai is around… allegedly!
We set off up the hill from Lewes Prison into the murk and within ten minutes there was water dripping uncomfortably from my left short, although it’s amazing how the whole spectre of getting wet differs between walking and running. Walking can be utterly miserable on a wet & windy day, but running is often exhilarating… providing you’re wearing the right gear, that is!
At the first gate, Cliff and I were a little ahead and he amazed me by dropping to the floor for ten press-up and ten squat-thrusts, followed by another ten for good measure.
We passed Blackcap and he repeated the exercise at the next gate. And the next. And the next too, although it was difficult to see him through the mist & rain. By this point we were at Ditchling Beacon and though I made a mental note of the time, I seem to have forgotten what it is now… maybe around 52 minutes.
From here we headed south to the top of Stamner Park, where Dai had predetermined to split off in order to head for home… sensible lad, that Dai and I should have gone with him.
Instead, Cliff took me on a magical mystery tour of the hills and valleys to the north of Falmer, although, to be fair, he did give me choice. ‘We can either go down to St Mary’s Farm, across to Balmer Farm and back up to Blackcap’ he said, ‘or you can wimp right out (you wuss) and take the namby-pamby shortcut’. He also pointed out that he had been seven-years-old last time he took the latter path. Hmmm, let me think for a moment.
The sense of loss, in height, to get to St Mary’s Farm was palpable, especially as every step down (in the rain) was a step that would have to be replaced at some point. It was at this point that I clearly smelt bacon, eggs & fried bread on the wind, but since that really wasn’t possible, I realised that it was my mind’s way of requesting more energy.
The run back out of the valley was okay, but as we got onto a gently rising ridge path around the ten-mile / hundred minute mark, I suddenly found myself right out of energy, or will-power… either way, I was walking. Cliff was very gracious and walked with me, although it was clear that he had only just warmed into the run!
I walked pretty much all the way from there to the rise before Blackcap, with not-quite-two miles taking 25 minutes. We ran from the gate to the cairn and on down towards Lewes and as Cliff made it a round-hundred press-ups and sit-ups while I paused for a pee, the weather finally began to clear and we could see Kingston ridge for the first time.
I just about managed to run to Lewes Racecourse, but past there I oscillated gently between running, walking & staggering… oh, and eating wild blackberries.
The whole run was two hours forty minutes for 14.7 miles and all things considered I’m surprised that the average speed was only slightly slower than normal at 5.5mph… still, not great!
The backs of my legs were more totally caked in mud than I care to remember, but I don’t have a picture so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Likewise the rain in general! Now, I must hobble back to the safety of the sofa!
I went for a run this morning with Dai & Cliff. The weather was not clement and I ran out of energy way before I got to the end.
