I forewent the Twitten running on Sunday for a longer jaunt on the Downs. My regime of late has been great in terms of building up resilience to shorter, faster runs and, it pains me to say it, running the hard-top… but has done little for distance, particularly off-road distance. Part of the fault is the Twitten running, which whilst enjoyable (particularly the post-run coffee) is using up a hard earned weekend pass which I would otherwise use to get up on them there hills.
So on Sunday I planned to run 10 miles. To ease myself back in gently, the aim was to run up onto Kingston Ridge, down the yellow brick road to Southease and then back along the river.
I set the alarm for 7am and when its siren disturbed my much needed beauty sleep I leapt out of bed full of enthusiasm… and… wait for it… it had been snowing! In-fact, it was still snowing. The excitement! The thought of running over the Downs when the snow is laying round about, deep, crisp and even is something that doesn’t ‘appen in these parts very often, as Good King Wenceslas would tell you.
I was quickly out the door… for the first time wearing thermal long-johns around my legs (shorts over the top obviously, to save embarrassment and probable arrest).
Up the first hill and over Juggs lane was delightful… crossing the road and along the Kingston road was gorgeous. Up onto the Kingston Ridge was a slow climb (slippy) but beautiful. The tops were unbelievably stunning. This is better than Twitten running I thought. Three miles in the bag and I hunkered down to face the blizzards and continued on… however, in reality the snow was melting, even as it fell, visibly as the minutes passed. I learnt a very important lesson, and I leant it very quickly. When snow melts, the sloppy mud it was so eloquently covering becomes even sloppier and mud like than it was previously.
Fortunately, by the time I hit the yellow brick road, the snow was still substantial enough to represent an ice rink… but once I fallen off the end of said road the conditions where just perfect… perfect for a mud loving hippo.
Another thing I discovered is that melting snow just retains enough integrity to hide the large, shitty puddles and piles of cow poo that can be found on the Downs, particularly in gate ways. But heck, all of this was a walk in the park, compared to what faced me when I reached the river path. By the time I arrived in Southease, the snow on the lower ground had gone.
Now a river path in January is going to be a little muddy in places, I accept that… a tidal river path, more so. A river path in January following weeks of torrential rain and a very recent outpouring of snow is, apparently, going to very muddy. It was very muddy.
With every step, the mud gremlins tried to pull my shoes off. Each foot sunk in about 4 inches before slurping back out again. Trying to run any kind of pace was simply impossible… just staying up-right became the goal. Short, frantic steps for 3 miles about killed me. My calves were popping, gluts were crying out in agony. Even my arms were moaning. The views over the Downs were lovely and worth stopping to admire every now and again (every five minutes)… but oh boy…
Eventually, after much angst and soul searching I made it back to joyous tarmac and the safety of civilisation. I tried hard for the last mile home… but the legs were buggered, all the energy gone.
10 miles done… let’s put it down to experience and re-join the Twittens again next Sunday… although, is that Blackcap I can hear calling?
January resolutions... Pah
