So last week’s training was in bright chilly springlike sunshine with a 19-20mile run from Greenaway to Port Isaac up and down the hills on the north Cornish coastal path, discovering that I don’t really like blueberry flavoured energy drinks:
With the sea turquoise blue in places reflecting the bright blue sky. The wind would drop around some dips and bends in between cliffs and then would wip up into a frenzy. I’m not normally one for putting on the winter layers when I run, but my ears were distinctly pleased to cover up! And in the spring sunshine always just around the corner is a spectacular site like this:
..and they seem to go on an on forever. The odd cow always seems wryly amused or more likely completely disinterested as I “gallop” past, although I feel more like a tired pack horse rather than a nimble race horse.
Today however the weather was distinctly inclement and at times visibility was pretty low, and where last week the sun had dried out a lot of the mud it was a rather slip sliding affair. Mud you might say is good training for the sand dunes as you slip in it just as much as on the loose fine dunes in the desert, but it is definitely more treacherous and the cows have a lot to answer for where they churn it up around styles and gates…
It’s always ironic whilst out on my long runs, you don’t see another person walking or running for miles, so I think I am safe to side step off the path, squat down and have a quick pee, but sod’s law, there is always someone coming just as I am pulling up my pants! The other ironic or more annoying occurrence is what happens when you do meet other people out on the path. Last week, quite near towards the end of my run as I rounded the cliffs back towards Polzeath it is a lovely down hill section, but there is a sudden uphill section that is quite steep and involves a few steps. Of course as I hit the end of the downhill section, I meet a family group with young teenagers, parents etc…who all comment “well done” and stand to the side as I go past. I know they are watching me so I have to then continue running up the steps and forthcoming cliff path until I am out of sight! After 18 miles that is quite exhausting – but alas all we runners have our stupid pride!
Running across the sand towards Rock today at the end of my run, I have to confess the prospect of a Sunday roast in Blisland Pub with my mother and sister was a very warming and welcome thought!
Just over a month to the Sahara desert…simply can’t wait! And the good news is that my wonderful local cobbler is going to rise to the challenge of securing my desert gaiters to my trainers, even if he did look somewhat bemused at my request!