The most anticipated date in this household (amongst the male of the species) is December 18th 2015, the day that Episode VII – The Force Awakens is released. The excitement is building already and hardly a day goes by without watching the trailers. Having now justified the theme for May, we can get on with the running.
So May has started with a little light rain and the kiss of a summer breeze then.
This morning I woke to packs of cats and dogs drumming incessantly on the roof. A brief look over the duvet told me it was 7am… a full 30 minutes before my alarm was due to get me up and running. Sod that. I moved as far as it took to switch the alarm off and snuggle back under the covers.
2 hours later I woke again… this time the rain had sorta stopped, or at least was finding it difficult to reach the ground due to the gale force winds. I got up. I had a bowl of porridge. I had a coffee. I got changed. I looked out of the door. I shut the door. With me on the inside.
I re-laced my running shoes – they have needed doing for a while and today just seemed the perfect day for them.
Out of excuses I was finally out of the door. My long run obviously postponed for a shorter five miles up to the Kingston Ridge and back. Both the weather and some rather excessive, ahem, carb loading last night somewhat took the spring out of my step. With the sound of the kid’s laughter echoing in my ears – AND FOR THE RECORD, THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH RUNNING IN MY ADVENTURERS HAT – I was off.
Oh the joys of a headwind… the hat didn’t stay on very long. The first mile past as the first mile always does… with a lot of moaning from various parts of my body; the next half a mile takes you along the 'low part' of Kingston Ridge, past the beautiful houses. All was well here, as although raining, it was relatively sheltered. Then it was time to head to the top.
Because I am no fool, I took the eastern path as I knew this would offer shelter from the wind until the crest of the hill, and sure enough, it was only the torrential rain I had to contend with. The effect of the beer and curry meant a brief little pause on the way up (for a rest, not for a… you know) and before long I had cleared mile 2.
Half way up, the path, the world, and my feet disappeared from view, I was now running in thick, grey cloud. It made me ponder Askwith and his fine piece of work: Feet in the Clouds… although I am not sure when he wrote this, that he envisaged a lardy, curry and beer riddled, sweaty middle aged man plodding up a hill on a Sunday morning doing a pretty passable impression of a slow moving heart attack.
Then I reached the top. I knew it was the top for the narrow miss at head height of a great dollop of sheep pooh flung in my direction by the wind (see what you’ve done MLCMM). In the summer it is flies that teach that age old lesson of breathing through your teeth. On blustery May mornings… it’s about avoiding a troublesome episode with a flying sheep tod.
I turned right (or at least I think I did) and started crawling along the top, straight into wind and rain. There are parts of me that got wet this morning that probably haven’t been that wet since I was in my mother’s womb. Then out of the mist appeared a gate that told me I needed to turn right again and head back down to safe lands. A few yards later I was back out of the wind. A few yards more and the world started to re-appear. I quick stock-check and I was content that nothing was missing – shoes, hat (in hand, not on head), pants, coat and t-shirt, all still where they should be.
The rest of the trip home was pretty uneventful after that… other than the last mile when the rain stopped and the sun nodded to the fact it was likely to make an appearance in the near future.
I am sure I could hear the gods of running laughing… perhaps it was just the wind... as the last of the curry made its presence known.
