I sort of ran 8.22 miles this morning. I did run the first 4, then started to feel knackered, so the rest was run-walk. The intention was to head off down the canal to the second road crossing, and return via the main road. This is about 5 miles. But once I’d reached the A4 I decided to go straight across it and come back via the much longer, hilly back route. The hills are big and steep, and there are four of them on this route. I settled for walking up them and trotting down the other side. It struck me that I should be making more use of these chaps. Good preparation for the Burnham Beeches half marathon which I’m resigned to doing 4 weeks from now. It’s the sort of race that gives “undulating” a bad name.
After a fortnight in the shadows of the dark satanic mills, I’ve started to re-appreciate greenness, and the gentle thrill of rural Berkshire. Trotting along one narrow lane, I turned a corner to find a deer standing in the middle of the road, rooted to the spot with apprehension about what was coming round the bend. He took one look and crashed through the hedge in panic. Silly fellow.
Bad news about the Warsaw Half on September 12th. It’s not on September 12th. I called in at the website yesterday to find that they’ve changed the date for no very good reason. I can’t even remember what the reason is, which proves my point. And so thoughts turn to the Budapest Half on September 5 instead. We could get to Budapest on the Saturday, do the race on Sunday, then perhaps get a train to Warsaw in time for the Poland v England World Cup qualifier on Wednesday 8th. This assumes I can get a ticket.
Returning from my run this morning I come across a sign draped across a hedge: HAPPY 50th, JULIE DOOLEY! A silly name.
8.22 miles? Caramba…
