You know that old problem, where you've filled up all your weekends, and allocated all your leave, but there's still things that you want to do? Well there's a solution to that conundrum. Weekday adventures. To be honest my weekdays are already pretty full. What with working full time, cycling and running to work, tending the allotment and gardens, route planning and preparing for whatever I'm up to at the weekend, Oh, and writing these masterpieces every week (although if I didn't that, I wouldn't have the faintest idea what I had done last weekend, let alone 6 months ago). In fact It's a good job that I've got “The Emma” to look after me, and make sure I have some tea occasionally, or I'd find something else better to do in that half hour too. You can always find time for a bit more though, and that's exactly what I've done this weekend. Having already filled up Saturday and Sunday (more of which later), I thought that I might be able to squeeze a bit more into Friday, in the form of a bit of running fun. Although if I'm honest this weeks stupidity isn't my favourite form of running fun, but needs must when you need to get some miles in. In a fit of idiocy, I signed up to a long running event with a difference a few months ago, and the time to put my money where my mouth is, is fast approaching. The big difference between this one and the stupidity that's gone before, is this ones all along Canal tow paths, and previous experience along the Basingstoke Canal has proven that tow paths make surprisingly hard running. It's surprising, because, as everyone knows, canals tend to be flat, which should make it easier, but somehow that doesn't follow. Not only does the endless flat terrain mean that your muscles never get a rest, but the tow-paths tend to be well surfaced, and are often either gravelled, or tarmacked, to prevent erosion, which is pretty hard going on the old toes! So, what's that got to do with this weekend then? Well, having decided that getting a few tow-path miles under my feet before the big event might be a good idea, but having run out of spare days to do it, whilst running home from work the other day I realised that if I just went the other way (the opposite direction to home) I could pick up the Basingstoke Canal, run to the end and then get the train back home again. Not only a brilliant idea, but I could probably fit it into Friday afternoon too. There was one small problem with my brilliant plan though. I'd either have to drive to work and leave the “Bangernomics” Peugot there, collecting it next week, which messes with next weeks running (I need the Van Friday night so I can't use that). Or leave my bike at work and run back in on Monday, that's not ideal either though. Or, wait for it, - - - - the canal's only 30 miles long, so how about I run to work on Friday morning too, making it a 40 mile day? Problem solved, and every thing's still in the right place for Monday morning, brilliant! We'll just ignore the fact that I've already done 36 miles this week, making this another 76 mile running week! Plan settled then, I'll run in to the office Friday morning, get out of work ASAP, run the length of the canal, get the train home, have a shower, say hello to “The Emma” and then head straight back out again for a night in the van, ready for an early start Saturday and Sunday. Genius! I'll admit that it didn't seem like quite such a genius idea when the alarm went off at 04:45 Friday morning, reminding me that I needed to get a shift on and get out of the door by 06:00, if I was going to get to work in time! I've said before that “there will be plenty of time for sleeping when I'm dead”, and to be honest, with the sun just coming up, the birds singing their hearts out outside, and the promise of another beautiful day to look forward too, it wasn't actually that hard to drag myself out of bed, have a brew, scoff a bit of breakfast, and slip my running shoes on, ready for the 10 miles in to work. There's also the added bonus that now the grounds dried out a bit I can take my run to work almost all off road. Which is significantly better than the 10 miles of road running drudgery I'm faced with in the winter, when the paths are just too churned up and muddy to contemplate in the dark before work. 7 of the 10 miles of off road trail is a far better proposition, and with the sun shining, the fields covered in moisture from the nights rain and the grass wet with dew, is a real treat in the mornings and really set's you up for a day stuck in the office! Just under an hour and a half later and the first bit of the days fun is complete. Now just a few hours of pretending to be interested in work and looking busy and I can get back out there again. “You Boy. Stop staring out the window” as they said at school a million times, “and don't exaggerate”! Morning satisfactorily wasted, and a lunch time finish beckons. But what's this? Just as I'm getting ready to leave, the heavens open, rain, Nooooooo! Now what? Sit at work for a bit longer and hope it stops, change my plans and go home instead, or just man up, get out there and get wet. Obviously the latter, and it's actually quite refreshing as I step out of the office into the rain which seems to be alternating between, torrential and monsoon strength. Oh well, I'm wet now and I don't seem to have dissolved, so lets go legs! It's a mile and ¾ from work to the canal. I know, because, I've run it enough times to know every pot hole, uneven paving stone and divot off by heart, and by the time I get there, the rain has subsided to more of a gentle shower, which is much better. It gets better still, as I pick up the tow-path, with it's familiar marker posts every ½ Km to remind me how much further I've got to go, as the overhanging tree cover keeps most of the rain off. Just leaving the patter of drops as the leaves above my head get saturated and release their cargo, and the explosions on the canal surface off to my right, as the rain lands with a splash, slowly adding to the water level. It doesn't take long to settle into a steady rhythm on the flat surface, and I quickly pass a couple of Kayakers, out having their own fun in the rain and a few dog walkers making their way back to towards their cars in the opposite direction. And then that's it, until I reach Fleet some 7 miles later, not a single person, just me, the beat of my heart and the fall of my feet for company, as I make my way steadily along, lost in my own thoughts, totally engrossed in the landscape, unchanged since the canal was dug all those years ago. As Fleet approaches, so does the number of people around, and with them so the landscape changes. That's pretty much it for the open countryside, as the towns which the canal once served, come thick and fast from here on. Fleet, Aldershot, Ash, where I stop for a much needed water resupply, and on towards Mychett where I stop again at the Canal centre to take on more water and grab a sandwich from my pack. The rains been stopped for a while by this point, and the sun's come back out to play, raising the temperature and humidity considerably, and despite having drunk 2 and 1/2 litres of water over the preceding 18 miles I'm starting to struggle with cramp in my calf's, a sure sign that I'm still dehydrated! Yet more water and a packet of salty pretzels seems to do the trick for a while and I push on, counting down those pesky marker posts as I go. Eventually, Deepcut arrives and with it another change of scenery. Since I picked up the Canal in Odiham we've been following the contour line on the map. But now, for the first time since our departure, the tow-path starts to descend. Ever so gradually, but enough to call for the occasional lock, bringing the canal level down to follow the lay of the land and giving me something new to look at. Past the 16 Km marker post, just 10 more miles to go, but my legs are starting to feel the effort now. Long gone are the easy miles from the start of the day. With 30 miles in my legs since I left home the pace is dropping off and the hard surface is starting to tell on my feet. Things don't get much better as I reach the outskirts of Woking and the gravel is replaced by Tarmac! I have a choice to make as I approach Woking though. I can either call it a day at Woking and get a fast train back home, with a regular timetable. Or, push on for the final 3 miles (plus another mile to the train station) and be lumbered with a slow stopping train all the way back and possibly a long wait for a train, adding at least another hour to the journey. It's an easy choice today, I've got plenty of miles in the bag and I need to get back home in order to get back out again! Swinging off the tow-path for one final time, I head for the station, arriving with minutes to spare for the direct train back home. The trains packed with London commuters heading home for the weekend and it's standing room only. But, as I balance precariously on my tired legs and look round at the glum faces surrounding me. I reflect on the adventure I've had this afternoon. Whilst my travelling companions were still sat at their desks, I was running in the rain. Slowly crossing the landscape crafted by a thousand farmers, engineers and Navvies, over hundreds of years. Running atop embankments created from the spoils of the hand cut canal off to my side. Spoil that was dug by hand, moved by wheel barrow and compacted by the feet of hard working men. Men, that shovel by shovel permanently changed the landscape, to make it what we see today! A landscape that almost returned to it's original state, as the canal was abandoned, in favour of first the train which runs alongside for much of it's length, following the same flat contours, and more latterly the motor car. A landscape which was restored to much of it's original beauty, leaving the amazing leisure opportunity and wildlife haven we have today, by a bunch of dedicated volunteers in the 80's and 90's, using much the same techniques as the original builders 200 years before. Oh yes, there's a lot to be said for grabbing the opportunity of a weekday adventure. I'll tell you something else too. It's surprising how long it takes to cover 40 miles on the train, even at 70 MPH. Maybe those 40 miles I covered on foot today is further than I think it is! Saturday, was an opportunity to give a bit back for a change, and I'd agreed to act as a marshaller for The Chawton Challenge. An LDWA event with 20 or 30 mile walk/run options, being organised by my local LDWA group. I'm always incredibly grateful for those that give up their own time to arrange and run any of the events that I do, so it's nice to get involved when I can and do my bit in return. Compared to many, my allocated duties for the day were pretty meagre, just having to man a busy road crossing for a few hours, ensuring safe passage and being a welcome face to those out taking on their own weekend challenge. It did however, give me the opportunity to spend the morning chatting to a few like minded people, all of whom had plenty of tales from their own adventures to share. And interestingly, a long talk with an old fellow who's car had broken down round the corner and had nothing better to do than talk to me while he waited for the AA who had lots of tales from a long and varied life, and who'd had a very interesting career in engineering. In fact, as interesting mornings stood in the late spring sunshine go, it couldn't have been much better, and was well worth getting up early for. It's quite surprising the number of people who will stand and chat to you if you show a bit of interest and engage with them. And you can almost guarantee, that those that do stop and chat, will have something interesting to tell you about. Listening is something we probably don't do enough of in today's busy world. And even as someone who would rather listen than talk, (as that means I don't have to talk about myself, which surprisingly I really hate) I'm as guilty of as the next man. In fact, thinking about it now, I should have stopped on Friday, when the little old lady walking her dog along the canal spoke to me as I was running past. But you know how it is, I was too busy, rushing along to get nowhere! High Viz jacket returned and duties completed by early afternoon, I still had plenty of time for a leisurely lunch, before heading down to the New Forest ready for Sundays Audax fun. Where, finding a quite spot away from the normal tourist activities, I had a very enjoyable afternoon mooching through the forest and generally chilling out. Not something I do very often, but when occasionally the opportunity presents itself, one that should be grasped with both hands. At the end of the day, a change is as good as a rest, so they say! Sunday saw a return to Audax in the shape of The New Forest Excersion 200Km. I say that as if I've not been out for years! Somehow though, the Blowingstone -White Horse Audax, just 2 short weeks ago, seems like a lifetime ago, and as I sat in the van Saturday night, I was actually excited about Sundays ride. New roads, new faces amongst the more familiar regulars, new things to see, new places to go, and another challenge. How can that not set you mind alight and inspire you? Sunday dawned clear and bright, with the promise of another beautiful day hanging in the still morning air as we assembled in a non de-script car park in Lymington, to collect our Brevet cards and be released into the wilds of the New Forest. 08:00 sharp and the nice man said “go” and off we went, or rather as per usual everyone just stood there looking at each other waiting for someone else to go first. You don't get that at a race, but it often seems to happen at an Audax. I know I never want to be first, what if I go the wrong way and everyone else follows me? Eventually though, someone took the initiative and we actually departed, a long slow snake of cyclists, slowly making their way out of the car park and off for an adventure on the open road. With the sun quickly warming the air and highlighting the verges, all of which are alive with spring flowers, and the bright green fresh trees and fields alongside the road, those early miles more than lived up to expectation. Moving out of town and into the New Forest proper, ponies, many with young foals in tow, crowded the roadsides, gently grazing the fresh grass growth, lifting their heads in curiosity as we passed, not bothered by the swish of wheels on the tarmac. And speeding past I was. With flat, well surfaced roads and a slight tail wind for the first leg, the miles were flying past. A very brief pause at the first checkpoint to grab a sticker for my brevet card and a turn to start retracing our steps back across the forest, bought the wind to the front and slowed progress slightly. Not enough to hamper progress or cause problems but enough to be noticeable. With the sun shining, plenty still to look at and smooth, traffic free roads, a bit of wind wasn't going to take the smile off my face today, and as I made my way back towards the coast I was in my element. By lunchtime I'd been both ways across the forest and was back at the coast. A quick stop for a photo or two, a glimpse of the Isle of Wight off across the sea, and a few minutes admiring the hoards of sun worshipers thronging the beach and off again. Heading North again for a second loop around the forest roads.
There's not much else I can add about the afternoon efforts. With the flat roads providing some easy miles, progress was good throughout the afternoon, and with nothing much to slow down proceedings I was back at the start before 17:00 enjoying a well deserved brew and a slice of cake as reward for the days efforts. Not that a reward was required. In fact the views, the wildlife, the constant sunshine and the miles rolling effortlessly along under my wheels had been more than enough of a reward for any efforts I may have had to make through the day!
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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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