August 2015

[Sweder]

A short, easy lope to push warm blood through tired muscles. Perfect running weather; high cloud masking the sun, a cool breeze out of the west, hardly a soul in sight. Running through Landport Bottom we were serenaded by various groups of sheep. One would bleat, echoed by others further up the hillside. Each beast has it's own distinctive tone, timbre and duration of cry. At times they overlapped, reminding me of one of my favourite commercials for one of my least favourite beers.



Chuckling softly I ventured on to the Moyleman start. No hill reps or mad sprints today, just a steady slog up the slope and home accross the top of the field. 3.5 kilometres of checking and monitoring. The right achillies is a tad tight (has been for a while), The Knee offers a mild grumble now and then, nothing more. I took my battered old orange Mizuno Wave Harriers out for a spin. Surveying the various pairs of incrementally knackered runners in my boot rack, it occurs to me I'm about due a new pair. Don't tell Mrs S I said that.

Hill reps on Friday, ParkRun on Saturday - three in a row! - and a long, slow run on Sunday will complete a good week on the trails.