The run where I take a different path

Today I decided to run home from work. I left the office and headed through Folkestone town centre, down the Old High Street, along the harbour and past Sunny Sands beach. Once at the far end I climbed up the hill past the Martello Tower, over the railway line and finally reached the top of the cliffs. From here it was straight through Capel-Le-Ferne on my normal route for another 4 miles.

It was windy and my legs felt very heavy. Was it because I hadn't run for three days? The fact I wasn't wearing my compression socks? Four hours in the car the day before? Lack of fuel? The more I thought about it, the more lacklustre I felt. I wasn't enjoying myself and put it down as one to endure.

At this point I noticed a subway that went under the A20. A woman was walking her dogs and I asked where it led. She said it would take me over the hills into Dover via the Redoubt Fort. I had noticed this line of hills before. They run parallel to the cliffs on the other side of the motorway but I had never run on them. I decided today was the day.

I entered the subway where there were two giant pieces of graffiti written on the wall. Emerging the other side I took the right fork towards the port. This took me up higher with a great view over my usual route, and beyond, the coast of France. The trail was very rough with large pieces of flint rock and brambles. At times I had to jump over nettles, scrub and thorns but it was great to run off road.

Skylarks hovered overhead, fluttering and twilling on the wind. I went through a kissing gate which led to a green meadow dotted with large hawthorn trees in full blossom, small blue flowers, white daisies and yellow buttercups covered large swathes of the grass.

The view across Dover harbour was stunning. Two ferries were in the eastern dock while a giant cruise ship was at anchor in the new western section. The castle was glowing in the afternoon sunshine looking down on the sea directly below.

On the way from Folkestone I had been thinking about how hot it had become and that summer was now well and truly here. The only thing that was missing was the swifts and swallows. I hadn't seen one yet and it was the middle of May. As I passed through another kissing gate onto a narrow track lined with dilapidated war fortifications I heard a series of piercing high pitched cries. Swifts! I counted a total of nine swooping above me as the strong wind carried them inland. I couldn't help but laugh out loud to myself and the smile stayed on my face all the way to Dover.

The trail led along the Western Heights and past the Drop Redoubt and the Citadel forts that descend 40 feet into the hillside and are linked by a series of dry moats. Steep steps led from there down to sea level and on towards the beach for a cooling swim. What had started out as a tough run to grit my teeth and bear had turned into an exhilarating experience and one I'm keen to repeat.