01-08-2010, 06:19 PM
Pinch, punch, first run of the month.
Traveling back from watching my daughter dance her socks off in her end of term show at the London Contemporary Dance School I got a text from an 'unknown' number. It was only unknown because I'd got a new phone last week and singularly failed to transfer all my contacts across. Bah.
Turns out it was my old snow patrol buddy Ladyrunner inviting me out for a convivial Sunday plod. She promised to be gentle with me yet still I thought twice before signing up. Last Sunday's blast across the clifftops left me feeling strong, firmly back on the running trail. However, chasing Ladyrunner up hill and down dale is not a task for the feint of heart or the weak of limb so I thought carefully before agreeing to line up at 09:30 this morning. We set off through the Hollingbury streets and onto the downs via Stanmer Park. The last time we'd been down this way we were knee-deep in snow, training for January's half marathon in Almeria. Today cloud heavy with rain destined for others trapped a thick layer of humidity to swaddle our bones as we jogged through the mercifully slightly cooler forest trails.
On the long climb up to Ditchling Beacon we skirted parched farmland, kicking up puffs of dry dirt as we filed past a patchwork of wheat-straw and dark brown stubble. I glanced down, amazed to see tiny powder-blue and violet butterflies dancing in the dust, flitting between our pounding feet, excited escorts for our sweaty endeavour.
Standing atop the Beacon amidst geriatric dodderers, liveried lycra-clad cyclists and hairy, beany-hatted ramblers I felt pretty good. I'm running without gels just now, simply trying to guage my fitness. I want to feel the fatigue creep into my bones. Know Thy Enemy, or something like that. We set off for home at a fair pace, the promise of fresh coffee and 'stolen' Banoffee Pie a great incentive to push hard to the finish. 17.7 kilometres in a shade under an hour and fifty minutes left us invigorated, grinning as we stretched out in the sunshine, faces shining in the glow of job well done.
The pie was delicious, the company and post-run conversation easy and engaging. I'm looking for more of these friendly outings as autumn peeps over summer's shoulder and the first twinges of returning fitness tease my re-awakening legs.
Happy August everyone.
Traveling back from watching my daughter dance her socks off in her end of term show at the London Contemporary Dance School I got a text from an 'unknown' number. It was only unknown because I'd got a new phone last week and singularly failed to transfer all my contacts across. Bah.
Turns out it was my old snow patrol buddy Ladyrunner inviting me out for a convivial Sunday plod. She promised to be gentle with me yet still I thought twice before signing up. Last Sunday's blast across the clifftops left me feeling strong, firmly back on the running trail. However, chasing Ladyrunner up hill and down dale is not a task for the feint of heart or the weak of limb so I thought carefully before agreeing to line up at 09:30 this morning. We set off through the Hollingbury streets and onto the downs via Stanmer Park. The last time we'd been down this way we were knee-deep in snow, training for January's half marathon in Almeria. Today cloud heavy with rain destined for others trapped a thick layer of humidity to swaddle our bones as we jogged through the mercifully slightly cooler forest trails.
On the long climb up to Ditchling Beacon we skirted parched farmland, kicking up puffs of dry dirt as we filed past a patchwork of wheat-straw and dark brown stubble. I glanced down, amazed to see tiny powder-blue and violet butterflies dancing in the dust, flitting between our pounding feet, excited escorts for our sweaty endeavour.
Standing atop the Beacon amidst geriatric dodderers, liveried lycra-clad cyclists and hairy, beany-hatted ramblers I felt pretty good. I'm running without gels just now, simply trying to guage my fitness. I want to feel the fatigue creep into my bones. Know Thy Enemy, or something like that. We set off for home at a fair pace, the promise of fresh coffee and 'stolen' Banoffee Pie a great incentive to push hard to the finish. 17.7 kilometres in a shade under an hour and fifty minutes left us invigorated, grinning as we stretched out in the sunshine, faces shining in the glow of job well done.
The pie was delicious, the company and post-run conversation easy and engaging. I'm looking for more of these friendly outings as autumn peeps over summer's shoulder and the first twinges of returning fitness tease my re-awakening legs.
Happy August everyone.