After our sodden sixteenish miles last week and our equally wet weekend hill adventure, this week was all about shorter walks and hills. On Monday morning it was nice to see clear blue skies when I set out to meet Kim at Woodmill. The downside to the blue sky was the heat, even before eight in the morning, but I guess you can’t have everything and we were only planning to walk eight miles anyway.
Feeling almost unreasonably excited, or at least I was, we walked across the expanse of rough grass towards the peculiar little monument. It had the look of a tiny white church with a triangular spire sitting on a steep sided grassy mound. If I hadn’t known better I could have thought the mound beneath the monument was one of the ancient burial mounds I’d read about on the big map earlier. In fact is is a burial mound of a very different kind.
One of the worrying things about the Clarendon Marathon, apart from having to walk twenty six point two miles in under eight hours, is the last five miles. By all accounts they are very hilly, including a trek up Farley Mount (the Mount part is a particular worry). With this in mind I thought our short walks should be hilly ones. On Sunday morning I scouted out part of today’s eight mile route and I was fairly sure Kim wouldn’t thank me for it, at least not today. Maybe on Marathon day though, she would.
Kim and I are loosely following a marathon walking training plan to get ready for Clarendon. Loosely being the operative word because Kim works shifts and we live on opposite sides of the city. During the week we walk separately, each trying to fit in miles as and when we can. The plan is to have one long walk together a week. Much like I did for my last Moonwalk training, the long walks alternate between one long walk week and the next half the previous week’s distance. Each long walk week is two miles longer than the last. It sounds complicated but it really isn’t.
After a string of dull grey days when all my walks were about getting somewhere as quickly as possible before it rained, the sun came out to play. This obviously called for a proper walk and I knew just the place for bright blue skies. The Bursledon Windmill was calling and, for the first time this year, CJ was joining me. Usually I’d head along Shoreburs Greenway to get to the windmill but, with all the recent rain, this didn’t seem like a good idea. The trail is muddy at the best of times and I didn’t fancy getting half way and finding it flooded, or losing a boot somewhere along the way. The alternative was a long, boring walk along the main road but this didn’t appeal much either so I plotted a more scenic but much longer route meandering through Sholing. Continue reading Hills, windmills and another fallen tree
Feeling rather unwelcome in the churchyard, I took a few random photos and left. Back out on the road with the race parading by me I stood in front of a rather ornate wooden bus stop and watched the runners stream past the Hursley chimneys. The road had been partly closed for the race and an unfortunate marshal had the job of holding up a stop go board to let cars trickle through when there was a safe gap between runners. It wasn’t a job I envied. Some of the drivers were less than patient despite the road closures being widely publicised weeks in advance of the race. Continue reading Winchester half
The venue for tonight’s RR10 was Hursley Park, near Winchester. Surprisingly, without help from Kylie who was in Iceland working, we didn’t get lost this year, although it was touch and go for a while.
Tonight’s RR10 adventure was at Janesmoor Pond in the New Forest, although there was some slight confusion, at least on my part because I thought it was across the road at Stoney Cross. Luckily Commando knew where we were going and we managed to pull into the correct car park . The first job was erecting the tent. This proved slightly more difficult than expected. Continue reading Janesmoor Pond, more ups than downs
According to the weatherman today was supposed to be the best day of the week, not that I entirely trust the weatherman of course. After days of rain, blue skies were a very welcome sight though and I decided to make hay while the sun was shining, or at least go out for a walk. Back in November, CJ and I went to Botley. Rain and a lack of time scuppered our plans and most of the route I’d plotted out went unwalked. Later I plotted a better one to the same destination and today was the day to walk it. Continue reading The trails of Hedge End, gloopy mud and a bramble disaster
This week most of my walks had been errands with nothing much of note happening apart from distance being covered. Today I had big plans to get some interesting miles under my belt. By now I should know making plans is not a good thing because something always scuppers them. This time it was CJ oversleeping. To be fair, he didn’t know I was planning to go out super early for an extra long walk to show him something I thought he’d like. Maybe I should warn him next time. In the end we settled on a pared down version of the walk I had in mind, minus most of the interesting bits. Even so, there was plenty to see. Continue reading Apples in the graveyard, not walking the Cobbett Trail