......that's what t'owd fella was doing last week. Or maybe it's just a euphamism for being lazy and taking it
easy. Common sense tells me that after the RunSunday event I should have rested for more than just one day, but I've never been very good at resting. So out I went last Tuesday, mixing it up - running a bit (on the flat), walking a bit (mainly uphill), sprinting a bit (love the feeling of speed) then maybe jogging a bit to get my breath back. Before I knew it I'd covered over 5 miles and sweat was dripping from me in the humid conditions. Back home a bottle of cold High 5 mixture went down a treat as I sat watching a small cloud of peacock, painted lady, white and tortoiseshell butterflies fluttering around the garden and feeding on the buddleia. Most enjoyable. So much so I repeated the session on Thursday, enjoyed it just as much and decided I ought to fartlek about a bit more often!
|Small tortoiseshell on buddleia|
|Caroline and Julie|
I'd been informed what time they'd be passing through our village and
sure enough, at the appointed hour, four figures came galloping into view, two six foot likely lads leading the way and two charming ladies bringing up the rear. With a minimum of pleasantries I tucked in behind them at the foot of a rather steep hill, 225ft inside ½ mile, and pleaded with them "be gentle with me up here". And very gentle they turned out to be, so much so I amazingly found myself with enough breath for some introductory talk. Though they looked rather similar I could soon differentiate between Dan and John. 'LittleMissSmiley' had become Caroline, though still very much resembling the former, whilst Julie, her friend, in no way resembled the first bit of her Forum name, 'Fattofit', so the transition had obviously been successful.
|Dan and John - the likely lads...|
|Mushrooms - straight from the field....|
For next day I'd planned a 10 mile circuit around Mossdale, one of my favourite wild haunts. I was about
to set off when the heavens opened - though the forecast had said it would be mainly sunny. I fixed another cup of coffee and made myself comfortable until the perishing forecast sorted itself out. It was 11am before the sun played peepo again, at which point I strapped on my bumbag and set off up the ghyll. Grouse shooting had begun 6 days earlier, on the so-called Glorious Twelfth, and a sizeable shooting party and their dogs had gathered on the moor, right beside where I was running. "We'll give you a head start" one of them shouted. That was good of them, wasn't it? After a reasonable distance I phoned my wonderful partner, who just happened to be on National Park duty on that very same moor, to inform her I thought 'Harvey's lot' were breaking the law by shooting on a Sunday. I thought she might want to go and sort them out but she declined, not wishing to mess with 'that lot' who seem to be a law unto themselves. Her fellow Ranger suggested they might ask them to keep their dogs on a lead - which I thought was hilarious! I carried on, sloshing into the jaws of Mossdale, past all the inquisitive beasties and out the other side.
|Wild garden - heather at its purple best on Grassington Moor....|
|Where I love to run - the track into Mossdale|
Looking round at us all she launched into her theme... "What do we know about Gideon...... and what do we know about Barak?" she asked. And I was sat there thinking "Well, Gideon and his gang went around sneaking Bibles into hotel bedrooms and Barak became President of the United States". Ooh, er, I'd better shut up before I'm excommunicated. I've just remembered, her husband sometimes reads my Blog....