Dark O'Clock X-C

Dark O'Clock X-C
Early morning cross country run from Flitwick to Luton

Sunday 8 April 2012

Fi's run


Day 99 Sunday 8th April 13.1 miles : miles to date 668

  Fi came to my rescue yet again today in two ways, one of which provided me with quite possibly the funniest moment yet in my running career. After the last few hard miles of yesterdays marathon and the post race beer, wine and curry, I awoke a tad dehydrated and not in the mood for running. Fi told me she wanted to run at least ten miles and if it hadn't been for her I would have done a basic three miles and no more. We decided to take it easy, forget about time, pace and even a specific route and just going where the trails took us. I have long been a fan of heading off over the fields on a new route marked way and seeing where we end up. Quite probably my greatest running achievement to date, is that I have now got Fi in that mindset as well. If we came to a marker post, off we went down it even if it was going in the opposite direction of where we had been vaguely heading. So, ultimately what is described below is in fact Fi's fault as she saw a new trail and said lets go that way. Having done so, we found ourselves heading further and further away from home, no obvious direction marker and getting wetter as the rain became heavier. It was with some relief that we ran into another field and came across an old long disused railway line which I recognised. We ran along the bottom of the cutting, until it became too overgrown.
 We scrambled up a steep bank, at the top of which was a wooded enclosure. On the far side, there was chest high fence topped with barbed wire. It was over that or back. I nipped over expecting Fi to vault it with some ease. I had forgotten that we had run cross country for ten miles and her longest previous run was twelve miles. She couldn't get her leg up easily and it took some effort to do so. A few minutes later, she was perched precariously atop the fence, with one foot balancing on a wooden post not much bigger than my fist and the other foot not quite balancing on the wire. In short she was stuck, in a field in the middle of the country, wobbling and becoming increasingly animated, wearing a bright pink running top and getting redder with each second. It probably didn't help that I was laughing so much. Of all times not to have my camera with me. Could it get worse? Yes. Two loud gun shots from across the other side had her convinced the farmer was using her pink top as target practise. Panic took over and she had no choice but to climb half onto my shoulders and slide down my back sideways. We didn't need another gunshot to persuade us to leg it out of the field. 
 The adrenalin rush soon subsided and we eventually wound our way back home for Fi's longest ever run, both in terms of distance and time on her feet. I am very proud of her, even if she is sitting next to me having a kip as I write trapping me in and preventing me from reaching a post run dehydrating beverage. It is Easter after all. Still wish I had my camera.

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