Never ending Sunday runs

 

After a whole day off any form of exercise yesterday, the alarm went off at a little before 6am this morning. One of my downfalls according to some people’s standards is that I am not physically or mentally able to hear the alarms, leap out of bed4, throw on my running kit and be out of the door before you can say knife.

I like to ease into my day carefully and thank God and all the angels my husband has never ever complained about this. On the rare occasion when speed is important for the get awa, he will have mentioned it a few days ahead, like when we are to embark upon a long driving work day or the start of a holiday journey when we like to get a good early start rather than a late finish.

Today, all he had warned me of was that I had an eight-mile hilly run to get through. Over the years with the aid of various measuring devises, we know exactly where and what all the mile markers are; A finger post, a gate, a big tree with a wide V in the branches and even one particular puddle, that in summer is just a dip in the track.

My husband/coach, drove me to my start point for today and as I got out, he, in his best German, gave me the, ready, steady, go, as he started the Garmin forerunner. He then planned to wait for our regular run friend and set her off behind me by just five minutes. She usually has more of a wait than that when we are only doing 10km but for an eight-mile run she seems to run out of steam just a bit at the end even though she is 14 years younger than me her exercise programme is very different to mine that has more run miles I believe. We like to plan it so that she can catch and pass me somewhere along the route. A ten-minute start for 10km works well but eight miles is an unknown because she has always run with us to give that a try. I am the opposite and get more in my comfort zone as I go along being more comfortable on the last few miles than at the start. We are all different.

 

 When I started out it was just about light and I walked briskly up the first gentle slope, passing the new grain store farm building where the big long plain green wall is supposed to hide the huge building and in the fullness of time, the tiny twigs that have been planted directly in front to the wall will provide a lovely hedge with various plants suitable to the area.

 

Meanwhile. This year and possible next year, it is giving the passing population of walkers, hours of fun using the copious amounts of the rough chalk that covers the whole of the South Downs National Park. This week, amongst the newest blessings written there, mostly peoples names; Scarlet, Ellie, Jake, to name but a few, I noticed that somebody had noted in medium size letters that ‘Aden Crittley is a Hunk’. I may have mis-remembered that surname, but I wondered if the young lady had mis-spelt Aiden. Friday however, I noticed that a new announcement had been placed; ‘Aden Crittley is a Stud Muffin’.  No further development had been added this morning and I walked on.

A man who walks his dog at that same early hour who asked me as I approached and passed

I passed him, where my Mister was? I gave him a brief run down on Steve injury.

 

My route today was to run four mile of our usual Sunday 10km route but to turn at the animal water trough is the four-mile marker half way down the side of the gallops and I was to turn there and return the way I came which meant I would be going back up hill again. Less than a quarter of a mile up the hill, I passed my friend running down-hill. She checked briefly that the water trough was the turn around and that it would be on her right not too far ahead.

 When I got to the top of that hill I turned and saw her at the gate about to start up. After that there are a couple of turns where I would be out of sight to her but I though she would catch and pass me somewhere. When I got to the puddle marker, I turned but she had not reached the top gate. I was at the highest point of the run but she was still not in sight and I started to descent to the next gate.  I continued on to the ridge path that overlooks Lower Barpham. I continued on there and still thought she would catch me but it was very muddy and I had to slow or walk bits that were very boggy. When I got to the six-mile marker that is now easier to tell people about because it is the new and quite lover long stack of maturing trees for the timber business.

 

From there the way is much easier and I was able to run non stop all the way back to the start point looking over my shoulder every now and again to see if she had me in to pull up on or not but she was nowhere to be seen. What I decided that I had not kept in mind about her was that where there is just grass and she take her trainers off and runs barefoot winter and summer.  In addition to that although she is actually a slightly faster runner and I, she does tend to fade a bit on a run longer than 10km. In the end, even though she had gained on me during the first half, she was still five minutes behind at the finish. Still; it was my second best 8 miler this year, only 19 seconds off my best.

 

Other notes: there was a fabulous sunrise with fast moving clouds. Also I counted eight big birds mostly Red Kites but all in different places and always just one bird flying solo. Toward the end of the run there were simply hordes of walkers with dogs and or children. There were loads of cars parked. Many more than normal. Lockdown didn’t work this time that is for sure.