Up hill and down dale

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This week I set off for a morning jog. I was without my fellow Bald Monkey as he is suffering from a foot injury and heavy cold. I wasn't sure where I was going to go but decided to head up the hills above Folkestone. Before I knew it I was blasting up what is known as Miller's Evil Hill on Strava. By the time I reached the top I was gasping for air and had to lie down. A nice easy start.....

Once I had recovered sufficiently I followed the path along the top of the hills heading north-west. Below me I saw the chalk white horse, the sun glinting off the bright white stone. The sky was blue but there was a chill in the wind. It was 7am. The fields to my right were a deep green, knee high in young wheat plants. Yellow fields of Oil seed rape lined the horizon. Skylarks twittered above me. To my left Folkestone began to wake up and the lorries were already queuing at the entrance to the Channel Tunnel. The sea winked at me in the distance.

A few miles on I turned inland and followed a wooded trail up towards the radio mast above Summerhouse Hill. I realised I was now tracing the reverse route of the Clifftop Trail that we will be running in June. It was so beautiful, bluebells, wild garlic and primroses everywhere, lambs following their mothers through the fields and spring green leaves covering the trees.

Once I had reached the mast it was a steep, stony trail back down to the bridge crossing the M20 and a descent into Hythe. At this point I could have continued straight on along the lane but saw a signpost pointing off along a narrow trail past an orchard. Intrigued and feeling good I decided to follow it.

By now I knew it was going to be a long one and I would be late in for work but I was having too much fun to stop. Eventually I emerged beside a row of huge mansions in Saltwood, a posh part of Hythe. By now I had done a half marathon and needed a drink. After an Isotonic drink and a Mars bar I continued to descend to the seafront and along the promenade through Hythe and Sandgate to Folkestone.

I had managed 17 miles and still felt strong, but hot. The sea was like a mirror and I felt drawn towards it like Odysseus being lured by the Sirens. Soon I was neck deep and felt the cold water refreshing my tired muscles. I swam for a while enjoying the calm, bright morning before heading home.







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