What better way to beat the January blues than run away for the weekend, on a last minute adventure to the not-too-distant South Downs. If we were sentimental about it, I could also say we were marking the fact we’ve been together fifteen years (sentimental? Me?!)
We woke up to the lightest dusting of snow in our little corner of Petworth and threw on our running gear to go in search of the highest point around. This is the first time I’ve ever run in the snow. It felt strange to head out in to the white stuff without multiple bulky woolly layers, but I’ve learnt that as long as your toes, fingers and ears are warm, the rest of you will cope just fine.
After a couple hours exploring the high land (high by southern standards at least) we ambled back down to the now-muddy puddles and shrieked our way through icy streams on the trail back home.
We filled the rest of our weekend with hearty pub food, exploring old towns, and ambling at a delightful easy pace, bulky woolly layers firmly restored against those winter winds. A weekend away in January is a Prust tradition I’m very happy to uphold.