Well, it cooked up a scorcher. It was like summer. Well, to be honest, it WASN'T like summer, it was what summer should be like. Our meeting was at a place that had both a cafe and a wood, making it ideal to have a cuppa and a chat, and then head into the wood, then have lunch. Some people think of everything. I actually last met Steve when he was interviewing me, which is always unsettling. I hate it when people have seen my CV. I just feel they know too much. Then I got really excited about my pot of tea (it was very splendid - I wish I'd taken a photo now), so I broke the tension by pointing out that Steve hadn't known how obsessed with tea I was when he interviewed me. It made him laugh, anyway. Also, Harry was at the meeting, who doesn't know that he is one of my favourite people. (In a work way). He's just very very sensible, and he really cares, and he knows loads. So it was warming up to be a good meeting already. I had quite a lot to say, which I was pleased about, because really, the meeting had nothing to do with me, I crashed it, so I was pleased to have something to contribute. I also mastered the knack of asking totally obvious questions as if they were quite important, which I've been practicing (and failing at) for years.
Anyway, we went into the wood, and I have to say, even though it was a mind-blowingly gorgeous day, I was apprehensive. Woods around Suffolk have a way of completely depressing me. They tend to have really high grazing pressure, and look a bit rubbish. We didn't go all around this wood, but it was bloody gorgeous. It's the sort of wood that really makes me really want to own my own woodland. Anyway, it had shrub layer! It had ash saplings! It had rides with proper shrubby edges. I cannot tell you how happy I was. We then saw a slightly worse area, where the coppice had failed, but actually it was still trying, it hadn't died completely. And there was ground flora that wasn't just grass. See, one of the things I love about Harry is that he was equally excited, we were like two kids on Christmas morning.Well, back home, I got the togs on for running. I had a bit of a hectic plan of going for my ten miles "all steady/easy" then going out to Speakeasy at the Brewery Tap, which meant I had to get my run in a two hour slot. I was pretty sure going up the river and then on round the lakes at Ferry Meadows was about ten miles, so I set out. I decided, after yesterday's run, that I wasn't going to look at the Garmin, and let my pace sort itself out. I also took gel packs, and water, so I was well-provisioned. It was a lovely warm evening, cool enough after the heat of the day. I was feeling buoyed up by having had such a good day. I wasn't making the mistake of going too fast though.
Even though I wasn't looking at the garmin, I did, of course. MUCH less than yesterday, but I knew my pace was around 9:30 to 10 minute miles. Which was fast. I cheated today, I played music. Dunno, I felt like it. It helps keep pace when no one else is there. I really struggled around 4 miles for some reason, but the pace wasn't being important, and I slowed a bit. Then Cool for Cats came on, and I just kept going. Reaching the lakes was like being in a race, there were so many people. I'd done about 6 miles, and felt good. I saw other runners, and thought I was better than (lots of) them. I probably am. I overtook some. And others over took me (it's the way of things). My thighs started hurting at 8 miles. I slowed a bit, but they were more aching than hurting, so I thought it was probably OK. I was on my way back, but was alarmed to find that I hadn't even reached the rowing lake yet, and only had a mile and a half to go. I decided to end my proper run with a sprint down the rowing lake, which took me, as I feared, to 10.22 miles, and then jog home, which I estimated to be about 2.5 miles. Then I also noticed I was late - Heather was coming to pick me up in half an hour. I texted (tip: don't text and run) to say I was "running" late (geddit?), and carried on plodding. All of a sudden, this car slowed down, and a guy shouted out of the window "Come on, speed up!" I was momentarily terrified, until I realised it was Dave! He almost sped off, but I did speed up. "DAVE!" I hollered. He pulled over. "Can I have a lift home?" He looked baffled, but it wasn't a good place to stop. "Really?" "Yes!" I said, "I've finished my run already!" "Hop in then!" he said. Just time for stretches, shower, and (taking heed of Dave) cold water on the thighs. And ready for Speakeasy.
Perfect! It may happen more than I'd like, but I hate being late.
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