It was a bold plan and I wasn't sure it was a good idea but me and P both thought we should finish off the weekend with a 15 - 16 mile run. We hoped Scott and Amanda might come - and it turned out they were up for it so we all decided to drive to East Linton, park up and make for sunny Dunbar from there.
The sun came out which made a tremendous difference so even if at first we were running faster than my average pace in the race yesterday I didn't feel like complaining. Happily the pace settled soon by itself. I was rather disillusioned to find they actually paint the fields green in this part of the world. Our fastest mile included the field where the man with the green spray was creeping up behind us.
My legs were surprisingly responsive, at least in the first half - which was very encouraging. I have a whole lot more miles that I need to do in the next few weeks. We ran round to a jetty where Scott showed us the boat he's been going fishing in with his dad. We ate snacks beside the aromatic lobster pots but nobody else seemed to mind so why should I? Peter and I shared a berry Power Bar that Peter won for his age-graded place yesterday. It was a curious thing, smelling of soap and tasting of nothing. Maybe I would have died even more dramatically without it but I started seriously running out of mojo around the 12 mile mark. Only 4 miles to go however so I was able to hang in there from behind...I told myself that this must be the most useful training - running after my legs have given out...
In East Linton we made beasts of ourselves in the local Co-op. I was just ready to tuck into some of my health foods (beef hula-hoop rolls and irn bru) but Scott wanted to go somewhere more scenic to eat so suddenly I was driving - my hands full and my belly empty as Peter remorselessly scoffed his snacks beside me. Ah but when we got to the tower thing near Haddington it was worth it. Well was it? I didn't care. The Hula-Hoops seemed to hit some primal spot - they were beyond delicious. Then for afters we had some Haribo football mixtures that Peter ALSO won yesterday. Surprisingly good! I was just reflecting that life seemed to be good after all when Scott started insisting that it was important that we go (au pied!!) to the top of the hill to the tower itself. I tried a number of excuses but he's used to his nephews and nieces and got the upper hand saying that if I didn't go he would "tell". I sighed and gave in. My legs didn't want to go up the hill and neither did my heel.
At the top of the hill (I assumed that that would be it) it turned out that we were now going to climb up inside the cold unlit tower on a stone spiral staircase with tiny worn steps. I felt my way up slowly and carefully ignoring the plunging vertiginous panic that was rising within me...one step at a time. Ah but it was worth it at the top! Who wouldn't want to experience a cold wind so harsh it feels like a wet tea towel whipping your legs, hands and face...I made my way down pitifully slowly - and although there was no evidence of bats or rats or broken bodies at the bottom I sensed that they were in fact there.
So, home at last. We have run more than 46 miles since Thursday which isn't bad since just 3 weeks ago my total mileage for the week was just over 6 miles...
Peter's photos.
No comments:
Post a Comment