December 2012

[Sweder]

Blackcap Blackcap Blackcap Blackcap ...
Sounds terribly dull, doesn't it?
Not a bit of it.

Every day I see something new. Every turn for home offers one the finest views on the running planet. Hills, fields, a sleeping town, looming cliffs, distant peaks and, beyond, a hazy sea. Clouds conspire to paint portraits in the sky, their occasional absence allowing the sun to shine down on this little piece of heaven.

   

This week I've been chill-blasted and 'papped'. With minus six on the dial this morning I braved my Lewes FC shorts, long socks and a vest. A hint of frozen mizzle hung in the air so the old VLM 'no thanks' wind cheater got an airing. Yesterday the sun shone alone in a clear blue sky. A billion tiny flashbulbs popped as I scaled the frosted green carpet. Today, as I crested Mount Harry on the way home, Lewes lay under a veil of mist, reminding me of the egg chamber in Alien. I was Kane, ill-fated explorer, descending to meet my sticky destiny.

Running well, solid, and feeling good. I weighed in at 88.2 kilos this morning, my fifth consecutive day under 90 kilos and perilously close to dipping below 14 stone. Track du jour: Need Your Love So Bad, Fleetwood Mac.
On, on.