Tag Archives: Rock

Heating up for the desert….two weeks until MDS2017 (whoop whoop)

Finally, the temperatures this weekend have been soaring to about 18C out of the sea breeze, and there has been no rain! In fact it has felt positively Saharan, well almost, give or take about another 15-20degrees.

But, seriously, compared to last weekend it has been heaven to run in the sunshine and to have even needed to wear a bit of sunscreen!

My long runs this weekend and last weekend took on the same path from Rock along the beaches towards Daymer Bay, up onto the Greenaway cliffs, across Polzeath Beach and then heading out along the coastal path towards The Rumps, Pentire and along towards Port Quin.  It is the most beautiful run no matter what the weather.  However, along with the weather, each time I run this route it is always different.  Last week as I rounded the corner towards the Rumps, and decided to head out to the dip between the two Rumps to wave to Daddy, I saw a fire engine.  This is not the most anticipated of things to see as you come raround this particular headland.  Before I saw the fire engine,  I did come across this somewhat stubborn and immoveable obstacle:

Well, they are quite tame pregnant ladies, and after a friendly pat on the nose, I ran on and so encountered the fire engine. So it turned out that the fire engine, was part of a larger group which included the coast guard and special animal units of each, and the local farmer.  This excitement and activity was due to one of these silly cows who had fallen down the cliff into the sea.  


She had spent the whole night down on the rocks as rescue attempts were hampered overnight by high tides, and then to cap it all, the silly cow swam to a small island which they couldn’t get a boat to.  So all in all it was quite a mammoth rescue attempt, but she was eventually winched back to safety up on the cliff tops where she happily scampered off and munched on the luscious green grass.  But judging by the site that met me yesterday morning as I rounded the headland towards the Rumps it might not be the last time one of these pregnancy ladies flies too close to the wind.  They are either very stupid or the grass in certain areas is out of this world:


Still, I don’t blame her…the sun was shining, the gorse is blooming…

and the sea is glistening like diamonds…


Ah, the desert is beckoning. Endless sunshine, sand dunes, blue skies, and camels instead of cows! (must not think about blisters, wearing the same clothes for a week, carrying a rucksack, and living off freeze dried food)! 

So I have reached £1000 in fundraising for MSF so far which is utterly fantastic. I simply cannot believe how wonderfully generous everyone is being – you are all amazing, and I am so very very grateful. Every little bit of support will help to motivate me up and down each sand dune, jebel and across each plain.  Although, don’t think I haven’t picked up on the theme of comments you leave on your donations – “I’m insane” seems to be a recurring theme!!!!!

I’m beginning to concoct my desert playlist – I’m not a big fan of running to music, but it is essential I have discovered in the desert to have a backup of some music to pick up the old pace when all other motivations are failing.  Rag’n’Bone Man has become my running mojo this time, cos after all folks when the going gets tough “I’m only Human after all!”But any y other recommendations are welcome….

I will be emailing out soon the link via which you will be able to send me messages in the desert – of encouragement, abuse, mockery, motivation – any message will be greatly received and will definitely stop me falling down a cliff in a Cornish cow style!

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Simply the best place to run in the world, every time 

So I’m back in Cornwall for a week’s holiday with my wonderful Mummy.  We came down on Friday afternoon with Skye (my mother’s Labrador puppy) and and my somewhat reluctant cat, Monkey – I say reluctant as trying to persuade her to go in the catbox did leave me looking like I had just crawled through several yards of sharp barbed wire.  We drove through all four seasons to get here and arrived in chilly rain, only to find that the key was not where it was supposed to be.  Having already unloaded said catbox from the car, it seemed cruel to confuse Monkey by putting her back into the car as we waited for Katrina, the lady with the key to turn up…..Skye and Monkey were both rather mystified as to why Mum and I continued to sit in the car whist they sat outside the door….

  
We eventually gained entry into the lovely cottage, Nantucket within the Highcliffe Holiday Cottages in Trebetherick, tea, shortbread and log fire soon ensued, and a few hours later my sister arrived.

My plan was to get going on the running immediately on Saturday morning, but as seems to be the nature of my running, things did not go quite according to plan!  On Friday evening, I managed to slip down the stairs and in the process stub at least 3 of my toes…with the possiblilty of thinking I had actually broken my little one.  It was quite swollen on Saturday and Sunday and the bruising was coming out quite a lot – I haven’t taken a photo as to be honest I think I have taken enough photos of my feet in the past for the sake of running and they ain’t pretty! (Also, I still have some now very chipped nail varnish on them!)

So instead, we headed out on Saturday in bright beautiful Cornish sunshine to the Rumps at Pentire Point to wave a cheerful springlike hello to our old dad – for those of you that don’t know, my sister and brothers and I and my mother, and even Skye as a tiny puppy, brought Daddy’s ashes out here in December on his birthday and cast him off the cliffs into the turbulent seas below – in fact we all nearly went with him due to it being the same day as Hurricane Desmond. This time it was bright sunshine, still windy but with a turquoise sea swelling in the background….

 
  
  

Sitting in the dip where dad always sat to watch the birds and seals…

 
And Skye encountered her first cow!

  
After a lovely, if ever so slightly “Jam & Jerusalem” Mothering Sunday Service at St Endellion Church and a quite simply delicious Sunday Roast at the Cornish Arms in Pendoggett (the best and friendliest Cornish pub there is) we left mum sleeping on the sofa with a slightly sick puppy, and a cat who is beginning to warm to Cornwall and Catherine & I headed down to Greenaway Beach for our favourite occupation of combing the sand and shale for Cowri shells.  We never tire of this, although the tide didn’t give us much treasure this time, as long as we found more than 10 we were quite happy.
Monday morning, sadly Catherine had to leave at sparrow fart for work back in Oxford – but otherwise what’s the best thing to start the week, a run along the cliffs and beaches to Rock – who would ever choose to run on a treadmill when views like this are on their doorstep, these are the views of my run this morning 

 Looking across the sand flats from Rock to Padstow
All the coloured marker buoys for yachts and sailing boats that have moorings through the summer months.  
  

The wide open expanse of sand revealed at low tide running back from Rock to Daymer Bay – it’s so crowded!

  
Looking out to sea to Pentire Head from the cliffs out above Greenaway Beach.

  

The view above Polzeath Beach.

There really is no better place to run, and broken toe or not broken toe (I think it really is just badly bruised and slightly sprained) it is just heaven.

After an essential running training diet based breakfast of toast, clotted cream & honey – trust me, it really improves my running.  Mum and I headed down to Greenaway with Skye to hunt for cowries in yet more beautiful Cornish spring sunshine…

   

 

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