Mmm a bad week, or a week of rest, or a week of prevarication, or a week of laziness. Whichever adjective I choose, the summary is the same, since my record breaking run (yeah right, Mo isn’t shaking in his spikes) last Sunday. I haven’t even run for a bus. I actually don’t like buses, so not running for them isn’t necessarily a problem.
My week has been one that ran very nicely though, spending it in Cornwall with dear friends N&A.
Monday – drive to Cornwall, well actually in my case, passenger to Cornwall, as Mr JCR drives, aided by the SatNav Lady. SatNav Lady is poshish, has a very shaky grip on London traffic conditions and some rather bizarre pronunciations. 40 minutes after having left home, we were approximately a km from the house…. An hour and a half after having left for Cornwall, we were in Knightsbridge (7km from home) – truthfully I could have run there quicker than we were driving. We arrived in Cornwall for a very welcome snifter just after 5pm.
Tuesday – my usual running day, so to get off to a good start, we dive into the Italian coffee shop in Saltash for a welcome coffee. A mini walk around Saltash, an attempt to see the Christmas tree festival – not today, we were there at the wrong time and then out that evening to Plymouth, to see Goldilock and Three Smoking Bears. A pantomimesque play based around Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. So no running done (difficult when I didn’t actually take my trainers or kit!)
Wednesday – a day of rest involving a day trip to Looe, a perfect healthy breakfast of black pudding and fried egg doorstep. My body is a temple, well it was almost the size of a temple after I’d polished that off. Then a bracing cliff top walk along the harbour, to get us ready for a nice meal at home.
Thursday – my other usual running day. It started off well when N suggested that a traditional Cornish crab sandwich was critical for us to have had the proper Cornish experience. He was extolling the virtues of Boscastle, but then the crab shack only has outdoor benches. With rather cold blowy weather coming in courtesy of Storm Caroline, his sales pitch needed a bit of working on. Well we could get the sandwiches and eat at the bus stop, actually it’s a bench, behind the public toilets…. And then A suggested that it might not be open either! So we ate Cornish crab in Devon, followed by a quick walk around the harbour area looking across Plymouth Sound, enjoying a coffee, when we saw three hardy souls cold water swimming. It’s effectively the Atlantic, a forbidding shade of grey. Two of them are doing that thing, when you splosh the water over your body in the vain hope it will ready you for the silent scream of aarrgghh when the water hits your Oh Zone. The lady at the next table, heard us discussing the water bravery said she swam there every day. So I haven’t run because I am on holiday and it’s cold, she swims every day(ish) in what can only be described kindly as ‘cool’ water. Respect or let’s call the funny farm.
Friday morning we left for home and this time SatNav Lady redeemed herself, she still has at least two three misdirections to make-up, but we arrived home to a very cold London.
Saturday Morning – too blinking cold to run, therefore stay in bed for a duvet day.
Sunday, what’s that I see? Yes, it most definitely is snow on the balcony and it’s still snowing, and it is the wet snow, not the dry stuff. We go out for a cheeky coffee, scene of my blind date with Razouski, aha I am slipping whilst walking, so any brave/foolish thoughts I had about running, have bit the dust. I am typing this guiltily because I ought to be running and I have a day out tomorrow.
I sit here with a veil of shame covering my face, I should run, I enjoy running, but I am a ‘fair weather’ runner evidently. Tuesday is a date for running, I must go and I am writing here as a commitment to run, so other than ice, or a broken leg or similar on Tuesday I will be running.