Saturday, 2 November 2013
That'll be the rain on.
I really hoped to get out a longer run today. 18 miles or something like that. But things were stacking up against me from the start. First of all I had a work's night out last night. I thought I wouldn't drink - but you know what it's like. You find yourself thinking "I can't actually stand this unless I drink". Not that they're not nice people. It's just kind of awkward when you're not at work with your workmates and it's so late at night (7pm) you'd normally be thinking about getting your jammies on and turning in, and you're so hungry you could actually eat your arm but it's not time to eat yet. Plus - nurses can get pretty scornful if you don't drink.
I don't think I've drunk anything since about February. I can vaguely remember blogging about it. It was that much of a novelty. So I had a couple of glasses of Prosecco on an empty stomach and my face went numb and it was difficult to speak.
I had maybe a glass of wine with a meal too and then scurried down the road before I turned into a pumpkin. Peter was at home just getting himself organised for the Glenogle 33, as he was getting picked up at 5.30 this morning for it, so the living room was festooned with running things and he was haring around packing things for all eventualities
I got off to bed way past my bedtime but had a reasonable night's sleep.
This morning one of the forecasts was saying it was going to start peeing down at 11am and the other was giving me until noon. I hoped they were both wrong and set off at about 9.30am from Gullane for North Berwick via the road with a plan to come back by the beach with the wind behind. In Gullane I stopped to get some pastry and a coffee. Well come on I was tired and a bit hungover, what was I meant to do?
While I was standing at the head of the beach eating pastry and drinking delicious coffee a young gull came over and asked where Peter was. It kept eyeing me. I knew what it was getting at. The sub-text was "If Peter was here he would give us some bread in return for a photo." "Well I'm not Peter" I retorted. In the end I did shake a few crumbs out of the bottom of the bag, but it walked away without taking them, shaking its head. "The hell with you" I said. We parted company.
The sky was lowering and dark but I kept just hoping that the forecast was wrong and maybe it wouldn't rain.
The sand was in good condition -flat and firm to run on. And the dark gloominess was quite atmospheric. There's a very subtle shading of colour that goes on on a day like today that the camera never seems to capture. The sea was a very precise blue-grey and contrasted nicely with the warmer pinky-brown sand. The people that were out were bundled up in lots of clothes and they made satisfying dark shapes, walking along the beach, throwing things for dogs.
My rucksack was keeping my back warm, which was a good thing. It was chilly out but I had the wind behind me and I didn't feel it once I'd got moving.
Just as I was drawing close to Gullane the rain started. At first I thought I would run on, via Aberlady and back the road, adding about 6 miles to my total, but the rain kept getting heavier and in the end it seemed fool-hardy to stay out and get totally soaked on a cold day when I was less than a mile from the car.
So I ran just shy of 12 miles. I was pretty wet by the time I got to the car and I think I probably did the right thing. I'll live to run long another day.