Weather

Now, I do like to run in the winter; dressed up cosily and pushing up some hill against the wind.  But, it is so nice to experience an early British summer after a long period of poor weather.

My desk at work has best view, ever.  There is no doubt that sitting at the computer while admiring the expanse of the Bristol Channel enhances my working day - yards from the beach, and six floors up so I have  an uninterrupted view of the sea, the Welsh hills and the Quantocks.  Go to the other side of the building and I get the Mendips.  I can see the weather as it changes; the colour and choppiness of the waves sending messages about how my ride home is going to be, and I can often see rain storms as they travel across the estuary like mobile showers.

I went out with Alex on Saturday - 30 miles through some unspoiled countryside.  We left pretty early but it was worth it as the air had that bell-like clarity; our only company was a good amount of birds and some deer leaving it a bit late to disappear for the rest of the day.  I felt a release of pleasure as we cruised down fields of buttercups from Dundry, the sun gently warming us and the wind still reluctant to make its presence known.

Through villages I did know and little hamlets and areas unknown to me; sometimes startling the residents of isolated cottages who were having an outdoor breakfast or getting ready to cut the hedge.  Quite a culture shock to reach the turn point at West Harptree - cars pulling in to buy the Daily Mail, and a lady buying eggs presumably for the family breakfast.  We lingered just long enough to top up with water and handfuls of dried fruit and nuts and then curved round Chew Valley lake to return.  It was quite warm by now but not unpleasantly so.

In the depths of winter when I am pining for a bit of heat I forget that running in hot weather is actually quite unpleasant; you get thirsty and sticky and sometimes get a headache from the heat.  I also forget that the summer brings stinging nettles that cluster round stiles and gates and push at you as you try to pick through without getting stung.  Sunglasses become useful, not to keep sun out of your eyes but insects, as they unerringly crash into the only soft moist part of your outside skin.  But it didn't matter on this run - bugs and nettles were overwhelmed by the pleasure of travelling through the pillowy countryside with every rise coyly showing a view of the lake.  The hedgerows - surely no other country can offer a habitat so extraordinary as an ancient British hedgerow - were soft and shaded with a green that seemed to glow in its verdure.  The soil hasn't baked hard yet and provided a perfect firm running surface.

As we walked (yes, it is allowed on long runs...) up the hill to East Dundry we entered a farmyard which, much to my great pleasure, had a galvanised trough full of water in which lived a healthy population of goldfish.  They too were lazily drifting around in comfortable appreciation.  It is my regret that I am struggling to work my new phone otherwise there would be a picture at this point.  Next time...

A long lollop down to the A38 to do battle with the traffic and through Colliter's Brook to finally part company at the bottom of Ashton Court.  I pride myself on my knowledge of the local area, and how curious to find someone who has built up a similar repertoire - some parts we both knew, others just one of us.  It was definitely a superb route that Alex had designed and I have recorded it for future runs.

With such an early start the rest of the day was still to come and we sat in the garden and basked.  It wasn't long before the cider came out and shamefully I undid all of the good of the run by drinking rather too much. A friend came round later in the evening and it was only then that I realised all my exposed skin was crimson and my hair was standing on end - a result of sitting in a windy garden. Combined with my new bright red thermal running top, style was clearly having the day off.
A legacy the following day of a surprisingly clear head but some sore leg joints reminded me to tell everyone I met of my excellent run.  Smug.