Sunday, 14 March 2010
With Mike upping his mileage for his Cotswold Way ultra attempt and myself conscious of the need to listen to my body, I decided to pass on the very early start he had planned and head out on my own.
Mike and Nick, an accomplished ultra runner himself, were heading south on the Cotswold Way. I decided to head northwards and meet up with them.
Left the house at six and made the old familiar way up to the top of Lecky Hill. It promised to be a good day - bands of cloud like raised eyebrows in the dawn sky - it was good to be out.
Spring was springing and it felt good to be out alone, poddling along listening to the birdsong: magpie chattering away, wood pigeon cooing warmth into the first rays of sunshine, robins, blackbird. Spring: like a sigh of relief. And about bloody time too..
At the trig, the rump of a deer disapparing into the scrub echoed the white backsides of the bunnies. There were Yellowhammers: I took a pic on the crap argos camera.
I had been hoping to meet Mike and Nick after about an hour and a half so that I could turn round and run back with them, but here they were already... They'd met up at 5.30 and had covered getting on for ten miles. In contrast to my dawdling, they were looking keen, fit and driven. We stopped to catch up for a bit and then went on our ways.
I ran on for another twenty mins or so and then turned round and headed back (meeting up with the guys again).
Was back home for 8.30 and a busy day...
...Not as busy as Mike who, after his early morning marathon, spent the rest of the day shifting mixed cement up the incline of his back garden. I went round to borrow a wheelbarrow at 6.30 and he was still going strong; albeit with a jaded look about him.
Sunday's training involved digging a big hole in the back garden and barrowing everything out.