April Week 2 - Here we go . . .

[Sweder]

Time of day: Morning
Ditance: appx 4 miles
Duration: appx 40 minues
Conditions: Steady rain, muddy, lovely!

Following an ill-advised session on the Guinness last night I decided to take my last pre-FLM saunter up to Black Cap. I set out to run most of the way, missing out the toughest climbs up Mount Harry and the Cap itself - no need to risk busting a gut at this stage.

I set off with the dogs, Willow (Cocker Spaniel) thrilled at the conditons, cavorting in puddles and long wet grass. The two longdogs loped along with me, not bothering to conceal their disgust at this undignified behaviour. Lewes cowered in her valley beneath low, dark clouds, the lush green of the golf course contrasted sharply with the dirty white chalk cliffs below.

I looked to the South West and spotted the Big W from my Sunday long runs. Tough as old boots to negotiate it looked no less daunting from a mile distant, and I shook my head, grinning, at the thought of tackling the slippery ascents in these conditions. We plodded on past the dew pond and the racing stables. Tess (Whippet) perked up at this point - we were entering Rabbitville. Sure enough a cotton-tailed bottom twitched as its owner took refuge in the thorn bushes. Tess launched across the field, a four-legged exocet bent on destruction. As with most assaults of this nature, she returned sans kill but energised, ready for action. The hounds love this run; there's sheep poo, rabbits, horses, puddles, mud, long grass, thickets, gorse . . . so much to sniff, so little time.

I reached the gate at the foot of Mount Harry, glanced up at the misty peak and bade farewell, turning back down the flint track towards home. Rivulets of mud/chalk stained rain ran alongside me. I splashed through them, delighting in the sensation of muddy water spraying up my legs. I love these conditions, sloppy, dirty, messy terrain, the muddier I get the better I feel. Just a little boy at heart.

My legs felt good, although my stomache complained bitterly at being heaved across the downs so soon after I'd filled it with Guinness. No untoward aches or pains, no hamstring twinges or alarming bruises revealed themsleves. I returned home, satisfied that everything was in working order.

Time now to relax and enjoy the mounting tension, to prepare my speech for the JDRF Pasta Party and to anticipate what I hope will be a fantastic day on Sunday.