September 2010

[Sweder]

What a fine day for football upsets it was on Saturday.
Arsenal (comfortably) beaten at home by the Baggies, Chelski felled by the upstarts at Eastlands, Liverpool taking advantage of an incompetent official to salvage a point at home to Sunderland.

I witnessed it all via the miracle of portable DAB radio and the excited jabber of the Radio Five Live commentary team as I plundered eighteen hilly kilometres under clear but decidedly autumnal skies. My duties as Dance Dad were called upon, meaning a Sunday outing (probably joining Tom Roper & Moylebird for the Firle Half) was off the agenda. My travels resume with a trip to Cascais (Portugal) this week and once again running will take a back seat, so a long run this weekend felt essential to deposit a little more fitness in the bank. The footie offered quality distraction as I set off, later than planned, at just after 4pm, heading across the western corner of Lewes for the climb onto Kingston Ridge. My plan was to run up the last stroke of the Big W, up alongside Castle Hill Nature Reserve to Woodingdean, back down the Snake, up through Death Valley and back down the W into Kingston village and home. I estimated the distance at ‘somewhere between 15 and 20 kilometres’ – or in my language around a two hour run. Once I’d crested the W I chased the sun as it fled into the western hills, its' reflection shimmering off the distant sea.

Running down the Snake was a highlight for me. I’d not done this before and the joy that filled my heart as I lumbered down her winding coils knew no bounds. I grinned, a wolf amongst the hillside sheep, as I passed a lone runner taking it on in the traditional manner. By this time the footie was over and the shocks were in, my ears filled with Sports Report interspersed with news of Milliband the Younger’s election as leader of the Labour party, an incandescent Steve Bruce on what he (and many others) perceived as daylight robbery at Anfield and a thoroughly depressed Arsene Wenger admitting ‘we was rubbish’. I paused at the foot of the snake to swap DAB for iPhone, reloading Talking Heads. Despite my joy at pulling a reverse on the Serpent my legs were feeling it and I needed David Byrne’s flibbertigibbet screeching madness to infuse them with enough life to get me home.

The Head did the trick, although I confess to walking the last few hundred metres to the top of the Ridge. Low puffy clouds slid across the darkening sky, their edges tinged with pinks and purples as the light faded. I hot the hardtop at Kingston and set off for home, legs happy to be on flat(ter) ground. Home at last, chilled torso thawed under a hot shower, I considered the route and decided I liked it rather a lot. One to revisit I feel. The curious fatigue I’d felt was explained by the Garmin data. My ascending gain was +451 metres – over 100 metres more than last Sunday’s Firle route. Though some of that was achieved at snail’s pace it still proved a good workout. I’ll be back.

17.94 kilometres, 2 hours 2 minutes.

LtoR: Breakfast, Kingston Ridge, W approach, View of Lewes from top of W, Snake Foothills, Longman, Homeward