A Sunday Session; Lacking in Energy

 

Goodness me our run was hard this morning. We were both tired, and listing which parts of our bodies were giving the most pain or grief, was taking longer than the thirty second walk section that was within the thirty second run/thirty second active walk recovery that was the plan for the morning; 30 seconds on 30 seconds off. Still, we are old hands at the discipline of trying to fit the mood, state of fitness, state of fatigue into our attempts at keeping ourselves going. We were on a 10km woods and downs route.

 

The blessed distraction was the sheer beauty surrounding us in the green glow of our much  loved regular woodland route. We train ourselves to only look around on the walk rest seconds and then to look where we are bloody well going on the run bit, we have both had enough trips and falls whilst our eyes follow the flight of green woodpecker or a scampering squirrel clambering up a fir tree trunk. Looking around at nature must only be done at walk pace. There have been some strong winds lately and there were some trees down here and there, that in turn had left twigs and leaf trails along the Monarch’s Way where the woodsmen had been clearing those as well as the normal work of cutting and stacking trees by the side of the Way.

 

 

 

It was not cold, unless you were in an exposed area, so my visi-glo lightweight coat was taken off, rolled and tied around my waist quite early. The path was not as muddy as I had expected either after the rain last night but I had still opted for my trail trainers with deep tread to avoid slipping.

 

Passing along the narrow ridge path overlooking the grassily barely disappeared medieval village of Lower Barpham, one could not help the eye being drawn to the hillsides beyond that are already starting to look autumnal, the rich green and gold of the summer months now turning to darker shades of rust and brown after the last bales have been gathered in.

 

 

 

 

My pink coat was hastily pulled back on as we climbed up to the trig point where it was so exposed and the normally lovely clear view, was starting to fade and look like approaching rain would be the order of the afternoon. There was more shelter as we started down by the side of the gallops on the way down and again it was noticeable that the wild flowers were starting to wilt. Blustery as it was, there were plenty of mountain bikers and other joggers out to enjoy the countryside. My aches and pains gradually eased as the session went on and we ran down the long path for the last couple of kilometres ignoring the peeps of Steve’s Garmin. There were only a couple of Red Kites today, calling with that mournful cry that sounds like the wheel of a barrow that could do with a drop of oil, the run would not be complete without a Kite or two, or three or four.

 

We were both tired by the time we got back to the car and decided to go for breakfast in Arundel instead of just tea and a cake at Swanbourne Lake. So Osteria, in the High Street it was, and bacon bap on Ciabatta bread with a cappuccino for Steve and a pot of Darjeeling to go with French toast with honey, berries and drizzled crème Anglais for me, oh my giddy aunt that is so tasty! There was not going to be anything too energetic on the board on returning home after that little treat.