Buttercups are gold

Well Saturday rolled round before I knew it, and there was nothing for it, back to the training. She said I should give it a go on Saturday, and well, there was that comment promising me "more attention" next week... which obviously scared me rigid. I'd actually trotted back to the car on Friday to get something Keith left there, feeling rather good about the fact that I knew it wasn't going to be a problem running that distance, so was disappointed that my leg still hurt running. I wasn't all that optimistic about the run on Saturday morning.

However, doing my utmost to follow instructions, I got an early night on Friday, which was pretty easy because (a) I was exhausted and (b) I was in Oxford YHA, so I didn't have a lot else to do, except pay a pound for 20 minutes internet access, which enabled me to upload my blog, and check in on Facebook. Perhaps that helped, because I woke up early (for me) on Saturday, which enabled me to up and out for a run. I took Keith's advice on where to run, as he is a seasoned runner, and that was to turn right out of the youth hostel and then jog up the river for my allotted time, and then come back.

And you know, the river was quite nice. It was a bright sunny day, and the trees were there, and there were barges and narrow boats, and generally the world was at peace. The birds may or may not have been singing, I was plugged in and didn't hear them. In fact, I accidentally had my iphone playing random things, not the songs I'd selected as having a faster pace, so I had a bit of Leonard Cohen and even some Edith Piaf. Then I got to a juncture where I recognised Portland Meadow, which is an SSSI. I decided with the leg and all, I might be as well jogging over the meadow. So I did. I got some rude looks from the geese, and some cows were interested but too lazy to interact, but I have to say I really struggled. The main thing I struggled with was how boring grassland is. I jogged almost all the way to Wolvercote, and it was sunny and grassy and really quite dull. I would have stopped running, to be honest, but then I'd have just been stuck in the middle of it. I could just see Wytham woods on the horizon, and thought how much I'd prefer to be jogging there, hills and all. Portland Meadow has a billion trillion buttercups in it, although sadly, they weren't in flower at this precise weekend.

It put me to thinking that sometimes you'll get a wood which may be mainly interesting, for example, for its bluebell display, which will be stunning for 3-4 weeks in Spring; but then in autumn you'll get its autumnal display of leaves turning gold, and perhaps a mass of fungi springing up, and the smell of leaf mould; and in winter the bleak trunks and twisty branches cutting the sky; and in summer the dark green leafy canopy giving protection from sun (or rain!). So they are good all-rounders. Unlike this grassland, which was dull. I have a photo of Keith in among the buttercups from a couple of years ago, so when it's good, it looks like this.

I also ran past some moored boats and barges, and I wondered if the big barge was the Corpus Christi College barge that my brother lived in for a year. I went to visit it on another occasion while visiting Oxford, and a caretaker let me on board. There was no sign of life on the boat I thought might be it, but it wasn't quite exactly how I remembered: a quick examination on Google Images tells me that this is for the very good reason that it wasn't it.


Anyway, I should be able to gauge whether my grassland colleagues are reading the blog, see if they have any choice words of defense the next time I see them...