Starting Juneathon off with an interesting aside, a conversation with Jogblog about going to see the top of Castle Hill in Folkestone got a little corrupted after I showed her my building site, made her jealous of the pokey, in need of decorating rooms we have compared to the show house (to be fair, the first such show-house I’ve had that actually has decent sized rooms. Shame the same can’t be said of the garden or (lack of) garage) and suggested that first she could do a Juneathon press-up on the horse on the hills over Cheriton.
And yes, the conversation got so far off track that part of my Juneathon effort, as can be seen from the trace, was to run around it.
Now this is trickier than it might seem. As most such things are, it’s cut into the side of a properly steep hill. My enthusiasm for fell running saw me make a decent hack at it; my forgetting to remove the auto-pause on my Garmin after cycling meant that the trace isn’t as good as it might be (I didn’t really stop by the head, it’s just that it’s so steep there, the satellites couldn’t detect progress. That’s my excuse, anyway). Plus, despite taking my Garmin, I was wearing jeans and t-shirt. I got warm pretty quickly and it was less than a quarter of a mile anyway. Ah, well. It was fun and just maybe it amused a motorist as they drove down either the A20 or M20 as my idiocy was in progress.
But I’m not going back and having another go, anyway. Well, not for a couple of weeks at least.
Returning home revealed that my calves are sore and I have to prepare for cycling to work tomorrow. I say prepare, I mean drink enough to re-hydrate me and get ready for an early night to allow me to set the alarm an hour earlier than usual. Work is only 15 miles away but we’ve only got one set of keys available at the moment. If I get a puncture or similar on the way in, there’ll be bricklayers and ground workers and all sorts swearing at me for being so daft, so I’m leaving enough time for a catastrophe or two.
So the run I had in my head was shortened. I went out onto the Greensand Way and jogged away from the house for a couple of miles, then returned home the way I came. 5 glorious miles overshadowed by tiredness but overlooking un-spoilt farmland and woodland that, very soon, is to be developed into 5,000 new houses. I’ve promised to take a photo before it gets ruined. Must do so soon or the image will be lost.
Oh, and I span around the block on the push-bike for two miles to check the gears etc. after I cleaned and serviced it this morning ready for the month ahead. It worked. I didn’t. It’s going to be a slow cycle in.
Juneathon. 2 days, 2 cycles, 2 runs. I should throw some weights around the conservatory, really, but I’m a bit tired. Poor excuse, I guess. But it’ll wait.