A Surprise Feast

Wednesday’s almost here and I’m still brimful from the weekend of family celebrations, games with friends, and incredible food from start to finish.

Friday was marked by the perfect steak at the Angel & Blue Pig. The whole family arrived in Lymington by boat, train, or bike to surprise my dad and celebrate a rather auspicious birthday.

Saturday played host to the best ingredients I’ve ever tasted. We were defiant of the drizzle and arrived at the door of The Pig Hotel after a muddy tour of woods, streams and parkland, to dry by the fire and drink mulberry cocktails.

We ate in a bustling garden room of irresistible dishes (including a burnt cream to die for) and filled up on delicious food and good company. No amount of drizzle can dampen spirits when there’s this much fun to be had.

New Shoes

Finally! The ground has dried up a little. Running in the countryside no longer involves running through deep puddles, or sliding in thick mud. So, I’m retiring my old very muddy pair of shoes. I walked in that pair of shoes for years before I gave in and started doing a bit of running. And this winter they’ve witnessed hail storms, landslides, and a lot of wet dirt.

I bought my new shoes from the local running store, which was so much more fun than buying them online. I even had a go on a treadmill (how have I got to 31 and never tried one before?!) This is the first pair of shoes I have purposefully bought for running. I’m looking forward to more days running on dry tracks, through green meadows, with only the odd April shower. I might still be a newbie, but I think this running habit might be sticking…

Runner’s Remorse

I’ve spent the last couple days attending a course in Salford Quays. The area is criss-crossed with lovely brick paths, humped bridges over the water, with people rowing across in skiffs. The place is pretty quiet, save for people running or feeding the geese, but the lack of cars and shops makes it all the more tempting for a run.

In the interests of travelling light, I didn’t pack any running gear for this trip. I always avoid taking anything extra and pride myself in being a light packer. But, home alone on a sunny day up north, I did doubt the wisdom in this. It strikes me that running must be one of the best ways to quickly explore a city, and an easy way of getting exercise whist away (yoga mats aren’t very portable and I don’t fancy the look of that hotel carpet!)

When we recently stayed in Belfast, with limited baggage allowance, Tom ditched his camera in favour of the running gear. When we arrived, he dashed off round the city in his trainers, while I lounged and drank red wine. Next time I think the running shoes will definitely have to travel with me, even if it does mean a bigger bag.

Double Outdoor Day

If you can drag yourself out of bed before sunrise, the whole day feels deliciously long. Usually the alarm only goes off at some ungodly hour to begin my immense commute. So, a wake up call to watch the sun rise over the sea and drink a hot flask of coffee makes a welcome change.

We walked over three bays in the morning light and back across wet and muddy fields (is there any other kind this month?!) Home by half nine and filled up with brunch, we couldn’t resist the pull of those blue skies. So we headed out West on our bikes to soak up the sun in the other direction. It seems that time spent outdoors simply prompts you to find more of it. And a day topped and tailed with the sun over the sea is my favourite kind.

Running To Your Own Rhythm

Finding an easy pace doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m the one bursting off the starting line, then later gasping for breath whilst everyone else overtakes. I love the feeling of being able to run ever greater distances, but I still sometimes find my legs petering out to a walking pace.

I’m searching for that sweet spot between race and plod, where your legs get in to a rhythm and feel they could keep going for ever. I keep my eyes on the horizon, stand straight and breathe deep while my feet keep pounding. That perfect rhythm requires all my attention- blissful distraction from the rest of the world.

I could listen to music, but it seems to distract. There’s enough of a beat in the air already. Were I plugged in I wouldn’t notice the flock of waders with their bright red beaks, who fly off on the wind; or the rabbit tucking in to the hedgerow beside me; or the splash of my feet in a grass-lined stream. Perhaps all these little pieces around me will help me find an easy rhythm. And, if my legs do just drift to a halt, there’s always the photo opp excuse..