Don't stop me now, coz I'm having a good time, having a run....

I awoke at 5am and struggled to get back to sleep. When my alarm eventually went off at 6 I jumped out of bed excited to be going for a long run. On the drive over to Folkestone I noticed how the scenery alongside the dual carriageway had changed in just a few weeks. The monochrome margins of winter had transformed into bright green hedgerows. Colour was back in nature.

My running buddy John and I had planned to head up to the North Downs Way prior to the week's parkrun. I had been enthusing about the lunchtime run I had done midweek and we planned to follow the same route parallel with the Channel Tunnel, across the top of the downs heading East and then back down into the town.

Grey mist enfolded the hills like a thick blanket as we pushed inside, eventually emerging the other side. As we climbed a pair of pheasants clattered across the road startled by our presence, wet dandelion clocks and bluebells marked the verges like cats eyes on a motorway. The road climbed up, higher and higher until I realised we had passed our turning.

Doubling back on ourselves we rounded the top of the first hill to met with a blaze of yellow in the form of a field of bright rape seed plants. We circumvented the field and took a footpath across the Folkestone side of the line of hills. The grassland was spotted with clumps of yellow cowslips, their bright flowers emerging from leafy pods like exploding lanterns.

This part of the route leads to Caesars Camp. From there we had an option to head downhill or keep going across the top to Capel-Le-Ferne. John, who ran the London Marathon less than a week ago, hesitated when I suggested carrying on but he didn't take much convincing before we were Capel bound. That's when the adventure started.

After crossing the A260 and climbing the steep hill on Crete Road East, we ventured off road to follow the winding trails through gorse bushes in full bloom. Visibility was down to 10 yards and despite both of us having run this way dozens of times we soon realised we were quite lost. The only point of reference available was the sound of traffic on the A20 below and a slight breeze from the south-west. 

At a fork in the trail we decided to descend until the track came to a sudden end. A natural barrier of spiky bushes and a steep drop meant we had no option but to turn back. At this point our energy levels soared as we embarked on this adventure of being lost while in such familiar surroundings.

Eventually we found our way back to the road and took the right turn down Smallpox Hill. What a name! Apparently there was a small pox hospital nearby following two major outbreaks in the 18th Century. Half way down were a couple of sculptures of sea creatures. I planned to look the up when I was home but can't find any information online. A good excuse to return - watch this space.

It was a gentle jog back down Dover Hill through the harbour area, up Remembrance Hill and along the Leas to the parkrun start. 3.1 miles later we enjoyed a well earned coffee and cake in the Old High Street before running back to Cheriton. 15 miles completed.

I said goodbye to John but my legs felt full of energy. Rather than drive home I parked up and decided to do a few more miles. My route took me past Folkestone West station, through the Golden Valley into Sandgate, up Sandgate Hill back to Folkestone West station back towards the town centre, along crack alley and back to Cheriton.

Another 5 miles and I still felt strong. It is strange for me to have so much energy in my legs after a week in which I've run almost 40 miles but I wanted to make the most of it. The variety of road running, off road exploring, great company and time alone had led to a great run day.