In a long sleeved top.
Well, that’ll most likely be tonight. Once again, Hawkinge is bathed in gloom – clouds, Northerly winds (not a breeze; a proper wind requiring jumpers and everything) and temperatures not rising higher than mid-teens.
I can’t moan, though. On Monday I decided I’d not run since it was a bit warm, being 22 when I got in the car after work. Lovely. Tuesday sorted that, though, so I did run while it was around 18. And I took a camera. And my turnaround spot looked like this:
Almost worth running towards and not just because it means you’ve escaped the gravitational pull of Hawkinge when you can see it (it’s the view from the top of Etchinghill with Dungeness Nuclear Power Station in the background). The lanes all the way there are single car width and I take the less direct route of the three available to ensure they’re as little trafficked as possible. The view mid-way back home is almost as nice:
Were it not so hazy, that would be the coast of France in the distance. The only bad bit of this image is knowing it’s little more than a mile from The Shittest Place On The Planet. But at least it isn’t quite there.
So the run was pleasant enough, it kept my legs moving and was better than nothing. Tonight I plan some intervals over my 6 mile undulating route. Hopefully there’ll be a few interruptions in sheep, cows and horses to poke as I pass their fields, otherwise it’ll be a nice jog out followed by a reluctant return to the car before I escape the nasty town for another evening.
I need a holiday.