Hopefully you will all be pleased to know that I’ve survived my brush with death courtesy of the "Lurgy" last week and I’m still alive. OK, so I exaggerate a bit, but I’m not ill very often, so I’m not very good at it, plus I’m a man so even a sniffle puts me at deaths door.
I’ll admit that it did take the wind out of my sails though, and I had to have a couple of days off work at the start of last week. When I did go back in on Wednesday I still didn’t feel strong enough to cycle in, so I drove, neatly spoiling my run of cycling or running to work every day for nearly 2 years! By Thursday I was back on the bike though and I even managed a short run Friday lunchtime in addition to cycling into work and back, so I must have been feeling better. Saturday I had planned on getting out for a few bike miles in the morning, but having listened to the wind howling round the house for most of the night and been greeted by some pretty ferocious wind when I got up, I decided that maybe I needed another recovery day to fully get over my weakened state. So I went to the allotment instead, where I spent most of the day pottering around cutting back the hedge that borders my plot and generally tidying up. Whilst it might not have been the most productive of days they were all jobs which needed doing and it puts me one step closer to being ready for the start of the new growing season in a few weeks’ time (which reminds me that I must get my backside in gear and get my seed order in). With the forecast looking significantly better for Sunday, I decided that I was going to have to make better use of my time, and with the small matter of the missed Punchbowl Marathon and my ongoing Marathon a Month attempt to keep on top of I decided that I’d head down that way and see how well recovered I actually was and look at getting in some proper miles. To that end I headed down to Elstead after tea on Saturday night for a cosy night in the van, ready for an early start on Sunday morning, the plan being to make the most of the promised weather and run what I could of the Punchbowl Marathon route, all be it a week late!
Sunday dawned bright and dry with no real wind and I was out picking up the planned route just before 08:00. With our friends at the LDWA keeping things fresh and interesting there had been a few route changes since last years event and after crossing the River Wey for the first time as I left Elstead there was plenty to keep me occupied as I made my way anti clockwise around the route heading towards Tilford.
Although I wasn’t feeling particularly strong, the sun was shining brightly from a near cloudless sky, the day was warm and still and with the birds singing, the snowdrops brightening the banks and hedgerows, and the squirrels searching for their cached supplies in the sandy soil alongside the route I was having a great morning and making steady, if slow, progress.
Plodding steadily on in the early morning sun I soon reached the 10 mile mark, signifying a 1/3rd of the days planned distance, but I wasn’t feeling as strong as I should have at this point and it was becoming clear, even at this early stage, that I wasn’t likely to be able to run the full distance.
A chocolate bar and brief pause just outside of Tilford whilst I investigated a small cave and some Second World War gun emplacements helped and provided a welcome distraction, but my mind was already considering my options, and as we've seen plenty of times before, when the mental game is lost then so is the day! Tilford came and went, along with the 13 mile mark for the day, and whilst slowing I was still running, all be it slowly, but my mind and body just wasn’t in it. I was still tired and lethargic from my recent brush with sickness and maybe I was trying to do too much too soon. But, most importantly, the sun was still shining and I was still enjoying myself. Reconsidering my options, I came to an agreement with myself that if I could carry on running to Frensham Common with it’s pretty ponds and sailing boats at the 16 mile mark, then I’d slow down and just walk the remainder. Granted it would be a long walk, but it was a nice day and as I said above, I was still enjoying myself.
Arriving at Frensham Common I knew the game was up for the day! My mind had fully bought into the idea of plan B and there was no point in trying to convince it otherwise. Slowing to a walk I spent a few minutes watching the boats on the clear blue water and getting some calories on board, before pulling on my jacket and long trousers which I’d sensibly packed for just such an occasion and heading off again at walking pace.
Walking alongside the pond as I made my way steadily onwards it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I pushed on with a newfound spring in my step. With no requirement to watch my footing quite so closely and the navigation easier at walking pace there was more time to look around. With my head up and jacket undone enjoying the warmth of the day, I started noticing the little things that you miss, or certainly pay no attention to, when your running. The old couple with a full loaf of bread feeding the ducks next to the large sign saying “Don’t feed the ducks bread it’s bad for them”, the young couple walking slowly hand in hand in the winter sun, the families out for a Sunday morning stroll, dogs and kids in tow, building up an appetite for Sunday lunch in a local hostilely, the birds signing from the tree tops, last summer’s leaves, now discarded by the trees, crunching underfoot as you progress and the thousand and one other things that your aware of, but pay no notice to when you pushing on. Plodding slowly on I stopped briefly at the 20-mile mark and sat on a fallen tree eating a sandwich from my pack. Not the traditional eat on the move approach of the marathon runner, but the slower, more thoughtful approach of the long-distance walker. Why eat on the move when you can stop, take the weight off your feet for a few minutes and take in the glory that surrounds you. I’m no longer chasing the clock or trying to convince my mind and body to keep going, I’m just enjoying being outside in the sunshine!
As I progressed the miles came slowly at walking pace, and as I stood atop Kettlebury Hilll, looking over the MOD training area where some Army manoeuvres were in full swing, I again considered my options. There was an ideal point coming up to cut a few miles out of the planned route and avoid the stiff climb up to The Devils Punchbowl. It’s a part of the route I’ve covered plenty of times before, and did I really need the extra miles of walking? No, I think not!
Decision made then, I diverted off the planned route and picked up a road section for half a mile or so, effectively cutting 4 miles off the day’s total. Sometimes I feel bad about changing my plans, it doesn't always seem to sit right in my mind, but at the same time, sometimes, adapting allows me to still have a good day out without hurting myself or suffering unnecessarily and at the end of the day, it’s all about having fun, not punishing yourself for a change of plan or a failure! My little diversion worked a treat too. As I covered the final couple of miles back to the van, I watched the distance slowly increase on my watch until it ticked over the 26 mile mark as I came down the final hill. If that wasn’t meant to be then I don’t know what was! 26 Miles in just over 6 hours than. Incredibly slow by my normal standards, but most importantly I’d had a good day, my legs still felt good, and I’d still enjoyed myself, walk or not. I can’t win every run I go out on and sometimes, acknowledging that it’s not a good day and changing your plans is the best thing to do. Give it a few more days and I’ll feel better, I’ll feel stronger and at some point, I’ll come back and run the full distance, but for today, I’m happy with that, and in my book that's all that matters!
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Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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