Mud, glorious mud.
The November rain, wind and mud were the perfect conditions for a long run this weekend. My usual Saturday morning run wasn’t possible, and so I ended up going out on Sunday. I had considered a local race, the Brett Owler Half Marathon but couldn’t really justify the cost when I could run locally for free.
I headed out with no clear idea of where I would end up. All I had done in the way of preparation was ensure I had my bank card in case I needed to refuel. The choice was to head east or west. East would take me through town and along the cliffs towards Dover. West was a flatter route through Sandgate and out to Hythe and the countryside beyond.
The thought of more hills after an elevated 10 miler on Friday was enough to send me eastwards. I descended into Sandgate and made my way into the headwind along the seafront. The waves were crashing onto the beach as a JCB dug and carried tons of pebbles to a truck which was transferring them further along the beach.
After a mile I was already warming up and the jacket came off. I had forgotten my gloves and thankfully wouldn’t have needed them anyway. It is a long straight path into Hythe, and I saw a many other runners out for some exercise including Blister Sisters who I had run with during my September Challenge.
At the far end of the town I turned inland and joined the canal path which took me past the miniature railway station (the railway is miniature, not the station). It was a relief to leave the asphalt behind and get some mud underfoot. There were plenty of muddy puddles – Peppa Pig would have loved it – and leaves all the colours of autumn.
Most of the trees were now bare and I enjoyed being able to see the interesting shapes of the branches against the grey sky and their reflections on the still surface of the water. A few miles further on the mud deepened and my shoes began to make a sucking noise as they plunged into and out of the squishy mud wallow, caking the backs of my legs.
My route led me away from the coast and past Port Lympne Safari Park, but the only animals I spotted were a red fox and a number of annoying dogs that made me slow down and, at points, stop while the owners retrieved them.
Finally, after twelve miles I decided to turn around and retrace my steps. The wind was now behind me and I still felt strong. I had completed a half marathon in 1:43 despite the conditions and was now managing 7-minute miles with little effort.
Once back in Hythe I continued along the canal rather than the seafront and re-joined the esplanade just outside Seabrook. I had promised myself a coffee in Sandgate but was enjoying the run so much I continued back to Folkestone. I bumped into Stuart by Mermaid Beach. He had done a ten miler and joined me for a mile until we reached the Harbour Arm. I did an out and back and then another along Sunny Sands.
With 23 miles completed I was starting to tire due to the fast pace I had been maintaining. I hadn’t yet reached three hours which meant a strong last three miles would result in a sub 3:20 marathon and a PB. However, I had stopped for a poo and to buy a bottle of Lucozade so it wouldn’t have counted.
I stopped by the library to consider whether to aim for 26.2 or just ease off. Unfortunately, I double tapped my watch and rather than pausing my time, I saved it. That made my decision for me and I jogged slowly home. Even though I had only stopped for a couple of minutes my legs had stiffened and I could barely get going again. I crawled home to a hot bath encouraged by the tempo I had achieved and the fun I’d had squelching through the winter mud.
