What do you do on a day off?

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Simple. Go for a run.

I found myself with a day booked off work and, with my daughter in nursery, nothing else to do. There was a part of me that considered going back to bed for a couple of hours, but the bright sunshine was calling me outside.

It has been some time since I last went running up in the hills around Folkestone and I missed the trails. It had been raining consistently for the last few weeks so I looked forward to some nice muddy sections.

My route took me along the seafront towards the east of town. There was a strong, cold easterly wind in my face the whole way. I was wearing my jacket and gloves and for the first time for months was glad to have them. 

The tide was out as far as it can go and revealed a huge beach at Sunny Sands. Adjacent to this were thousands of black rocks jutting out into the sea. At the end of the promenade I ran up the steps and then climbed the long hill past the pitch and put course and the Martello Tower. From this point it becomes a very steep trail over the railway and up the cliff.

This brought me out at the Valiant Sailor pub. I crossed Dover Road on the edge of Capel-Le-Ferne and headed west with the wind now behind me. I passed through a kissing gate into a field with Folkestone laid out below me, the sun breaking through the clouds over the sea. Patches of white mushrooms poked through every cow pat. Half way across the field I was leapt on by an overweight pitbull cross which gave me a scare. The owners just laughed as they walked past. 

I wasn't going to let that spoil my run and put it out of my mind. This was helped by the boggy section that followed allowing me to plough - literally - through the thick mud. Great fun. At this point I spotted a large number of cows with their calves in the field ahead and took to the road which descended until it crossed Canterbury Road.

Into another field, up the grass hill and back down the other side and then up again past the workmen burning piles of sticks and leaves. This brought me to Caesar's Camp and another stunning view east towards Dover, down to the Channel Tunnel and west towards Ashford. I could see Summerhouse Hill in the distance and decided to head for it.

The trail weaves across the hills, over the chalk horse, around more WW2 shelters and down into a quarry. From here I could descend into Peene or take the reverse Clifftop Challenge route. Slightly longer and more hilly. I chose this one. At the top of the next rise is a turning which leads through woodland until you reach a black kissing gate. This opens onto another field with a sign warning of military manoeuvres and explosives. 

I hopped a stile and descended the grassy valley, passing under the disused railway bridge via a tunnel. More beautiful autumn woodland presented itself before I crossed a small wooden bridge and another stile. Back up again through a field of sheep and across a road to more woods. Here I spotted a wide variety of fungi including a collection of stunning Trooping Funnel that looked like a fairy village.

I came out on top of the hill which houses the military mast and has stunning views in all directions. As I approached I heard the sounds of gunfire and soon spotted a troop of camouflaged soldiers crawling up the hill on their stomachs firing at a sniped just below me. I turned up my music and ran past feeling saddened by the existence of guns and warfare. This was heightened by the stunning natural beauty and peace all around us.

The only was is down at this point and I soon discovered that the field I needed to cross to climb Summerhouse Hill was home to dozens of cows and their young. Without hesitation I abandoned the idea and looked for an alternative exit but there was no way forward without crossing through the bovine barrier. I zipped up my black coat to hide my bright orange t-shirt and bolted for the nearest gate. I made it and found a cluster of golden Sulphur Tuft fungi.

Safely across I had to follow the road for a mile before I could pass under the M20 and get back on the trails. There was one more climb which was accompanied by Black Midi singing "You won't break me." All that remained was a downhill through farmland into Seabrook. Unfortunately I took a wrong turn and had to climb a number of fences before finding the path again.

From Seabrook it was a short jog along the seafront into the headwind again and home. 17 miles and 1800 feet elevation. Good preparation for my next marathon in three days!









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