Mud, mud, more mud and food

Day 315 Saturday 10th November 11.7 miles : miles to date 2077.8 Hi Honey I'm home. Daddy's back to play and play we did. The SMC welcomed me with open arms back into a depleted crew this very morn, due to Sundays x-c race at Tring. Or Wing or Bling (sorry not funny in-house joke). All thoughts of pace, mile splits and position were firmly shelved in favour of mud, water and banter. It was like time had stood still. We headed off to find mud and did everything we could to avoid tarmac, running my old mucker the Greensand's Ridge. David Cook came prepared for winter and was only missing a scarf. I can't wait to see what he turns up in when it's minus twelve. One of the longer term walking wounded in the form of Jerry Day was out for only the second time in what must be six months, so we gave it ten minutes before starting to take the mickey, concentrating on Cookies thermal gloves instead. The promised rain stayed away and when we were running the temperature was fine. The trail took us eventually into Chicksands Woods and my other old mucker Richard Jones once again came to the fore. He casually mentioned he wouldn't mind after Christmas running from the coast on one side of England to the coast on the other running along Hadrian's Wall, as you do. I'm not entirely sure he has mentioned it to the current Mrs. Jones, so don't tell her. She may be the ex Mrs. Jones when he does. A little later, Satnav once again showed his truth worth, heading through an army firing range and trying to take a trail in the exact opposite direction of where we were going, heading in fact back to where we had been. Think I'll be in charge of the maps. It was like nothing had changed. Come to think of it, it hasn't. A very enjoyable run with my pals, was finished off with a very tasty carnivore baguette and hot chocolate on the green with most of the crew. Running for PB's and times are one thing, but ultimately it's these types of runs that I get out of bed for. At 6.18am as it happens.