A horn, leather boots and swords. Just a normal run, then.

The entries in my running log this year have been rather gloomy. The snow and ice limited running then I donated blood for the first time in forty years. I’m not sure if that was what made my runs for the following two weeks such hard work or if it was due to advancing years but I can’t do anything about the second, so we’ll blame the donor session. (I was very impressed, by the way, particularly with the fact that bags of crisps were provided as post-blood sustenance.)

Last week I was considering not going to Cape Wrath in May. Anyone who’s ever met me will have heard me wittering about the event so would realise just how fed up I was with running. I wasn’t even planning to go up and just hang around and eat chocolate cake.

Last Sunday was decision day. If I couldn’t get round ten miles then there would be no hope of getting in anything even remotely resembling marathon training. The weather was lovely, perfect for running, and I set off along Kingsweston Down, with Wilf, my husband, keeping me company every now and again. Over the Iron Bridge we saw some spots of flour and were wondering if it was for a Hash when right on cue their first runner appeared, followed by the rest of the group. The idea of joining them was very appealing but I knew that if I stayed I wouldn’t do my ten. I set off towards Kingsweston House with the sound of a hunting horn echoing through the woods.  Several people were standing in the car park, the women wearing long dresses and cloaks, the men in long leather boots and with swords.

I look on the Portway as mental training. This time I was lucky: a woman was ahead of me and running just slightly faster. I managed to cath her after about a mile and we ran together for a few minutes then I carried on to Bridge Valley Road, stopped at the bottom and tried the “injured but battling bravely on” look as there were cars waiting at the lights. They didn’t go so I had to. I try to run past one lamp-post more each time. I reckoned I could do about 8. Keep it steady…. one…….. take it easy…………… two…………….. doing well……………. three…………. well done……….. four …….. should that have been five?……. Have I been counting lamp-posts as i pass them or when I see them?………. Oh sod it. Just keep going.  I don’t know how many I ran past but then I walked and ran some more.

Beautiful weather on the Downs. Parrys Lane. Oh I do like Parrys Lane. I do when I’m going down it, at any rate. The Dingle, back into Blaise, then home.

A slightly longer route than three weeks ago at a better pace. Looks ok for a marathon training run. Get the chocolate cake ready!