April 2013

[Sweder]

The new month arrives, shivering, bedraggled, bemused. Rather like your correspondent.
March wrapped up with a whimper, so many good intentions whipped away on a wicked wind of despond. 113 kilometres, 3 megre klicks more than a year ago, poor preparation for the Brighton race just 13 days hence.

All that doom and gloom was washed away in glorious sunshine on a peach of a run this afternoon. I hit the hills after lunch, hounds bounding at my heels. We stormed Blackcap, dropping into the woodland behind the summit to plummet towards Plumpton. A sling-shot up the north face of Mount Harry offered a lung-busting climb, carving a livid V into the elevation map (below).

I felt good, running all the way to the top without pause, drinking in the sunshine and the soft landscape before hammering home at race pace. I could have run further but the time for banking mileage is past. In order to line up on the 14th in best shape I will focus on good hydration and healthy eating. On, on.