Category: Photos

After a highly entertaining dinner with friends in London last night and the subsequent 1am homecoming, an 8am meet-up at Jack and Jill was always going to be a little bit of a struggle.

I was actually there early and was reclined comfortably in my car when Cliff pitched up.  We chatted for a while through open windows from the warmth of our cars before each calling Daren to see where he was… other than late, that is.

Finding no answer, we ran down the hill to the main road to give him some additional time grace, before heading up the hill again and on, towards the Beacon.  He called while we were still half way up, blaming an alarm clock that still thought it was ten-past-six.  If only!  I would still have been comfortably asleep under the cosy warmth of the winter duvet, instead of up here on a cold and drafty hill and feeling tired!

We pressed on despite the cold and reached the top of the hill before Cliff’s phone rang and he stopped to converse.  At the Beacon, his phone rang again, and he stopped to converse.  When we got to the white cow, a bit further on still, which Cliff thought would be on my map but unfortunately is not actually shown, Cliff’s phone rang again.  And then a second time.

We turned reluctantly for home and had made it past the Beacon and had met up with Daren coming the other way, before Cliff’s phone rang yet again… I can see why he normally doesn’t carry the damn thing!  The three of us ran back to the cars where Cliff, now needing to run an urgent errand elsewhere, sadly tootled off.

Rather than abandon Daren to the hills on his own, I tagged along and we ran down the hill into Clayton and along Underhill Lane.  We then took the tank tracks right the way back up to the top, running every step of the way.  Which was why, when my phone rang as we neared to top, I didn’t stop to take the call, but rather ran on conversing with a persistent sales person between gasps of breath!

My feeling as we ran down the hill towards Jack and Jill for the second time was very different to the first.  Gone was the feeling of cold and tiredness and I now felt warm and alive … that extra loop with its BIG hill was really worthwhile!

Between the seven  phone call stoppages or distractions (I actually thought it was eight, so I think I’ve even missed one out!) and the steep hills, the speed was never going to be fantastic (at 5.25mph it clearly isn’t), but I’m pleased that I ended up running for one hour 44 minutes and that I covered 9.15 or so miles.

It was really great fun running with both Cliff and Daren, separately and together!  And despite the different challenges that each of us has from a work perspective, it really is pretty cool being fit and in your forties and being able to schedule time so that you can spend it with friends like this!

And according to Daren’s clock, it’s still not time to get up yet!

It was comparatively chillsome as I stood waiting for the guys at Falmer this morning.  It was clearly not that cold though, as Andy and Cliff arrived and stripped to shorts and t-shirts.  To be fair, I was also wearing shorts, but my Gore jacket had snuck itself on to my person and I didn’t feel warm enough to deny it passage.

Falmer is a great place to start from, as the initial hill is long, at 1km, but not too steep.  Once at the top, the next ten minutes is flat or slightly downhill so you get warmed up pretty well without overdoing it.  At the Newmarket Copse however, the boys seemed to have a tad of trouble the the gate.

From there we ran up to the ridge and along Juggs Road, where my Gore jacket finally became a Gore belt.  We didn’t see any well-laden women while we were there, but I guess that they would probably take their wares by road these days… and before you assume that I’m being lewd in some way (qui, moi?), you may want to read this!

We were however somewhat surprised and delighted by the demonstration by the Advanced Mowing Class.

Despite the absence of Sam, or any fishwives for that matter, the view of Seven Sisters from the top of Swanborough Hill was marvellous.

From here we dropped down to the bottom of the valley near the Balsdean pumping station and it was lovely to feel the now-warm wind blowing the cobwebs away.

And then we started the long grind back up to the Newmarket ridge, taking in Standean Bottom and Falmer Bottom, before reaching the steep hill of the Castle Hill nature reserve.  From previously cruising along at the back, Andy suddenly exhibited the competitive streak for which he is well known, by pretty much sprinting up the hill, while Cliff and I languished behind… walking.

From the top it’s pretty much downhill all the way back to Falmer and on that last 1km section, I opened up my stride and let the speed flow.  At least for a while until I got the stitch!  I then cruised happily along until I heard Andy bearing down on me, at which point I opened up all the stops again to make certain that I reached the final gate at the front of the pack!

The run seemed like it was a really long way, but it was in fact only 8.5 miles.  It also seemed at least as fast as last Sunday, but at one hour 26 minutes, we only averaged 6mph.  We did stop a number of times to take pictures, to pee, to work out where we were, and where we were going, to pee again (Andy), and again etc… whether this would account for the 13 minute difference between 6mph and 7mph I don’t know, but it’s probably not that bad.

I had a loose arrangement to meet some of the guys at 9am in Falmer yesterday.  I almost didn’t keep it as I had been up later than intended the night before reading, but somehow I managed to make it on time.  No-one else turned up and after watching a local on his bike circling the pond a few times, following his dog, who was watching him intently over his shoulder to make sure he was following, I headed out.

I had enjoyed the hills on the route that we did on August 2nd and had a vague sense that I would now be writing about doing the same route, on my own and hopefully slightly faster.  I love exploring though, so having run up the path alongside the Falmer Road and then left towards the copse, I couldn’t help but follow the path that turned right and led directly up to the top of the ridge.

In a much earlier blog I described being amazed to discover a path running up Ditchling Beacon, just downslope of the road, when I thought I knew the area really well.  Here was a similar feeling and from the top of the hill I surveyed the deepcut valley of the Castle Hill Nature Reserve which I knew lead to the, now buried, town of Balsdean and on to the sea which was clear in the distance.  I tramped the paths around here as a youngster, as a Scout and most recently on a Jogshop 20 mile race five years ago but it was still like a new land.  I opened the gate and ran down the hill, ready to discover some new routes.

Largely covered by grassland, the valley of Falmer Bottom winds around beautifully as it makes its way slowly to the sea, with occasional remnants of its former, more intensely farmed heritage in the form of derelict farm buildings.  In order to get to the sea though, I had to run up on to the hill above Rottingdean, passing as I did a magnificent country house of a pumping station in the valley below to my left.  From the top I could see the familiar villages of Woodingdean, Ovingdean and Saltdean and I spent a good while thinking of the friends and family that live in each of those places.

Then I was running down through the prosperous town of Rottingdean, where even the shop that sells plastic buckets and spades has an air of exclusivity.  At the one-hour point, I found myself standing on a pretty, remodelled Undercliff Walk with glorious views.

Running to Saltdean on the flat, past the Lido and then through the park at the entrance to the valley, I realised that my legs were really tired and the thought of the long drag back up to the top of the ridge was now daunting.  At Pickets Hill Farm the path splits and since there was a runner half way up the steep High Hill to my left, I chose this way to go in order to have a moving target.  Though I seemingly made no ground on them on the hill itself, I had caught them by the time they reached the next gate.

Faced then with a drop back down into the valley and the steep track at its head, I opted for the slow gradient of the path that hugs the eastern edge of Woodingdean.  It was simultaneously like a new path and an old acquaintance and odd memories of growing up in Woodingdean kept dropping into my mind.

At the Falmer Road I turned right and headed up to Newmarket Hill, the highest point around and then back to the top of Castle Hill Nature Reserve, before retracing my initial steps back down the hill to Falmer.

The 12.8 mile round trip had taken me 2 hours 17 minutes and aside from the pain, I thoroughly enjoyed every retraced step of it.

To get straight back into the swing of things, I met Daren at Jack & Jill this morning for a gentle run.

With the wind firmly behind us, we ran along to Blackcap, pausing to help an incongruent cyclist who first asked directions to Ditchling beacon, then later, when we caught him up again at the Beacon, asked directions to Hollingbury… it might have been easier for him to have asked the second question first!  The going was pretty easy and the conversation also flowed happily along.

Then we turned around to run back.

With the wind now firmly in our faces, conversation became much sparser, not least because we practically had to shout to be understood.  We watched a rain squall ahead in the distance, but were fortunate that it didn’t come our way.

It felt like the entire way back was very uphill… most especially the last downhill section back to the cars!  Yet despite this, we were whooping with the joy of blasting cobwebs and force-fed fresh air… it was just GREAT!

The distance was 9.35 miles and we took about the same one hour 35 minutes that was taken on the 23rd August… not sure exactly though because my watch is still in for repair and I messed up starting the stopwatch that is standing in for it.