Despite the procession of troubled spirits passing along the corridor beyond my door, I woke at 6 a.m. feeling refreshed and rested. I lay there for a while, listening to the radio and TV reports about today being the final day of legal fox hunting. This rather blank part of England is keen on the practice, and the local TV station paraded a long line of indignant local worthies, shaking their fist at the cruel gods.
I’d planned to do a longish run, but was held back by the thought of another extended shuffle through industria. But eventually I got up, put my running gear on and left the hotel.
And had a pleasant surprise. First, I found out the name of the place – Brownsover Hall. The next thing I discovered was its rather lovely rural setting – given an extra layer of mystery by the fog. Over there somewhere was the industrial estate but here, round the back of the house, was Swift Valley, a nature reserve “opened by David Bellamy for the enjoyment of the people of Rugby”, according to a sign. Well at that time of the morning there were no people of Rugby for me to enjoy, but I did manage an invigorating jog along a network of cinder paths alongside a murky brown canal. None of the paths went anywhere, and it didn’t take them very long to reach nowhere, but it didn’t matter. I just trotted round the tracks, expelling large clouds of steam, chortling to myself. I can’t explain what a relief it was to be here, and not on the gargantuan business park beyond the ring road.
As I returned to the hotel, 30 minutes later, I spotted a large ginger cat trotting up the path in front of me, going in the same direction. For a moment I thought nothing of it, but then… hang on, do cats usually move like that? No.
It was a fox! It’s a while since I’d seen one this close. As soon as heard me, he twisted his head round to glance at me, bared his teeth, and darted into a bush. “Just one more day to go, mate”, I wanted to say. How nice to see one today of all days.
A chicken or a huntsman seeing those teeth would say he was growling at me. Nah. I reckon he was grinning.
This evening, back home, I joined up with my local running group and went out for 4 hilly miles at a smart pace. Two runs in one day. It’s a first.
Tally Ho!
