With Grim next Saturday (did domeone say Yay!?), I was considering running on Thursday so I could include a taper into the training. But since the training has been somewhat sporadic and I had some residual shin pain, I knocked it on the head.
An evening in the presence of a certain Bobby Conn, plus socialising afterwards, lead to an arrival into bed at 2.45 this morning so a bit of a late exit from bed was the result. Got a good bit of gardening done this morning still, though, followed by a shopping trip, followed by a bit more gardening which then bumbled into a run at 3 o’clock.
How many clothes did I elect to wear? Many, many layers. That’s all I’ll say. Topped off with hat and gloves.
Good job, too, for the Garmin took ages to get a signal and the two blokes who walked past the house as I was waiting were a couple of hundred yards up the road when I set off behind them. Overtaking them halfway up the hill towards the church, I looped off right to build some local distance while still wondering a) how far to go and b) if anyone would believe that one of the blokes I’d passed had bandier legs than me. Honest, I swear his horse was waiting in the next road, just ready for him to climb on without changing gait.
So after my loop, I saw the two chaps again and decided theirs was the direction to take. So I set off for the newest bit of housing estate, contemplating a loop back towards Tesco as I passed them again. They’d done 1 mile, I just over 2.
Well, thinking on my feet again, I decided against heading towards the dull route around the houses, so headed for Cheeseman’s Green instead, safe in the knowledge that I had an hour of daylight left so the lanes were safe enough.
A right turn, followed by another to take me towards home had me stumble upon the two walkers again. This time, they were 2 miles from home, I was just over 4 which makes me think they were walking exactly half as fast as I was running. Quite where they were walking to is another question. Maybe the donkey from the summer needed checking for girth with the younger fellow’s bandsome legs…I’ll just never know. I’ll also not know whether they thought I was stalking them because I simply headed straight for home across the fields, taking the rougher sides of the tracks to attempt to snap an ankle before the nasty ice fest that will be a race next week.
Sadly, I failed. Also failed to quite do 6 miles. 5.89 was enough, though, to make me happy that a jog around a rough off road route should be comfortable enough that I’ll be able to enjoy it, if not quite break any records.
Except for dull blogging, maybe.
Roll on Janathon, then everyone can share the inabilty to think of something entertaining to write after about 14 days and my words won’t look quite so poor!