A couple of runs separated by a handful of days and two continents.
On Wednesday last I woke up on the beachfront in Wilderness, a heavenly section of Western Cape coast between Cape Town and Port Elizabeth. Rollers crashed on deserted sand as I silently slipped into my running gear. A soft sand run calls for bare feet, so I tiptoed out a la Fred Flintstone, careful not to wake my girls.
Four gentle miles under the suns first rays, only gulls and scurrying hermit crabs for company as I run last Saturday's rust out of my tired legs. The Indian Ocean washed my feet as I danced in and out of the surf. The beach houses lay silent and dark to landward, palm silhouettes filling the gaps. Seabirds silent as if bound by local ordnance strutted their stuff; even the breakers seemed muted as they rushed in to meet the shoreline.
River
Two days later and it’s pre-dawn once more. This time I’m creeping out of a guest house on the edge of the Wilderness Bird Sanctuary. Runners required for this riverside ramble, taking in over a kilometres of perilous boardwalk faded and warped by years in the strong South African sun. On I lope through the leafy lanes and onto the disused railroad track. I revel in the soft caress of the cool morning air, barely breaking sweat over an easy six mile jaunt.
Hills
A week later and I’m pulling on the offroaders for the first time in too long. I’m at home, my dogs cavorting around me; we’re off to Blackcap. I promised Ana a 5K run but it turns out to be miles – I’ve had enough of kilometres for a while; having an A340 strapped to my rear for over eleven hours has left me hungry for mileage. My legs tingle with excitement and stored energy, feet keen for the kiss of lush turf, dried mud trails and slippery flint. It’s a beautiful run, barely an hour before dusk. The warmth of the day ebbs into the east, lured by the setting sun. The downland air cools my skin as I run freely, easily, on a well-worn path, hounds bounding joyfully at heel.
One of the best things about leaving home is coming back, never more so when your home is in the hills. A kitchen-clock time of 46 minutes belies the easy feeling. There’s still a few niggles floating around; that calf will need some attention. But the time is nigh for drawing future plans. After cheerleading duties at the FLM it’s on to the Seaford Half, the Dorney Dash and a better showing at the Jog Shop Jog.
April - Old Mutual Two Oceans Marathon
