Very rashly, I'd told my cricketing friends in the Prince Rupert last night that I was hoping to do a 30km run today, along one of my cycling routes, but the fact that I'd been in the Prince Rupert last night meant that I was never going to cash the cheque my mouth had written.
Still, I managed 16km along unknown country roads through the villages of Little Carlton and Bathley neither of which I'd ever seen before; hardly surprising as both were the size of a newborn chihuahua. There's a lot of ivy growing in the hedgerows, and it was all busy with hoverflies and the odd butterfly. Occasionally a kestrel would fly along in front of me after I flushed it from a tree, and there were a couple of shaggy looking buzzards making a low level flight across my route.
But the slowness of my running, sheesh. I'm still hampered with all manner of low level aches and pains, but today I was slower than ever. Over two hours for 16km is way off my best form. and all my muscles in my groin and legs feel tense and tight.
30km seems a very long way off indeed, let alone the 42 my marathon on the 28th November will entail.
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 04.10.15
|Wounded bee. Couldn't identify as something had bitten a chunk our of its abdomen|
|A large field of probable cabbage.|
|A more ginger species|
|Nice shot of glamorously named A1 fishing lake|
|The writer in the mirror|
|The route across the field|
|Brightly shines the Trent|