November

[Sweder]

Having battled back from South Wales through appallingly foul weather I knew what to expect this morning. I ducked out of the B&H ParkRun, enjoying a cozy cuppa with Mrs S before reluctantly saddling up the hounds for a hilltop scour.

It may well be that the past few days touring with a selection of fine rock bands has taken its toll; let's not be too quick to judge or cast unwarranted aspursions. All I'm saying is if I'd put that amount of effort in on a windless day I'd've expected a PB, not a paltry 48+ minutes. I've never run in such strong cross-winds. Remaining upright was a real struggle; it felt as if my RC shirt would be torn from my torso at any moment. Tears were ripped from my eyes as I leant into the teeth of the storm. I was deafened by the constant roar tearing in from the coast, first my left ear then my right taking a fearsome pounding. This from a man who spent last night watching the impossibly loud Motorhead from stage left. Mercifully the rain stayed away, or more likely never had chance to reach the ground. Ferocious, brutal, all of the above; and yet a pleasure to be out there, testing myself against the elements, in spite of the resulting John Terry hair 'style'.

To those taking on the Brighton 10K tomorrow, I salute you.
If the wind is anything like as strong as today you're in for a wild, wild ride.