For months Kim and I had been training hard for the Clarendon Marathon. We’d been out in all weathers, mostly wet, walking miles and miles to prepare ourselves for what lay ahead. Of course, neither of us really knew what lay ahead, except that it would be hilly, or at least the last part would be. What I wasn’t prepared for though, was a horrible cold, striking me in the week leading up to the big day. In an attempt to get rid of it quickly I took tons of Lemsip and had lots of sleep and rest but, when the big day arrived, I felt dreadful and it was clear my cold was going nowhere fast.
Once again Commando is pacing the Winchester Half Marathon. There have been lots of Sunday runs with the pacer team. Today though, they were doing a practice run on the course. Despite the early start I went along too. Any chance to wander around Winchester for a few hours is always welcome and this morning I had a plan.
Today was the first chance Kim and I had for a proper long walk since our soggy attempt at twelve miles on the Thunder Run course. Of course we’d both been squeezing in shorter walks as and when we could but, if we were going to get through the Clarendon Marathon in under eight hours, we really needed to get going with the long miles. The plan for today was to catch a train to Winchester and walk back home. All in all it should be about fourteen miles, give or take.
At the end of the driest, hottest, sunniest summer since 1976, it was a touch disappointing when the day of the Winchester Half Marathon turned out to be one of the wettest, windiest days of the whole year, thanks to Storm Ali. The doom and gloom weather warnings didn’t exactly fill us with confidence but Commando was pacing the race so we wrapped up as best we could and set off bright and early. Continue reading Winchester and Storm Ali
We ended our month of parkrun tourism with a trip to Winchester. The original plan had been to run every August parkrun somewhere different but we squeezed an extra one in to help a young lad called Leo celebrate his hundredth run. As usual, getting to Winchester involved an earlier start than normal but we parked up close to Winnal Moors with enough time for me to dash past the Willow Tree pub, along Durngate Terrace to the High Street and grab a coffee and croissant to make up for missing breakfast. Continue reading Winchester, the last of the parkrun tourism
When I left Winnal Moors it was well after ten o’clock. Commando was due back from his run at around eleven. This didn’t really give me time to explore much further although I didn’t want to just go back to the car park and wait around. Basically I had time to kill and, in Winchester, this is never a bad thing. Dawdling, I walked along Durngate Terrace, stopping to admire the painted bollards at the end of the street, then I headed along Eastgate Street towards the centre of the city. Continue reading Killing time in Winchester
Of course I couldn’t stand in the park gasping at the wonderful views across Winchester forever. Eventually I dragged myself away, walked back down Blue Ball Hill, which was certainly the easiest direction to tackle it from, and headed somewhere far more familiar. It was now around twenty past nine and Commando wouldn’t be back at the car park until just before eleven, so I had more than enough time for a stroll around Winnal Moors. Continue reading The magic of Winnal Moors
A quick look at the map made up my mind. The top part of Blue Ball Hill looked to be devoid of houses and I could see the square tower of a church a little way along St John’s Street. Old churches are almost impossible to resist and I could always walk back up and explore further afterwards. With this in mind I began to walk along St John’s Street. There were so many interesting looking houses, it was slow going and, as I walked, I realised I was gradually going downhill, slowly losing all the altitude I’d gained with so much effort earlier. Continue reading The Soke and the oldest church in Winchester
Commando is pacing the Winchester Half Marathon again this year and this morning was the first of the pacers training runs. Although it meant getting up earlier than I’d have liked, it’s hard to resist a couple of hours wandering around Winchester on my own so I decided to go along. We arrived at the Colebrook Street Car Park just after eight and, after synchronising our watches and a little chat with the other pacers, I set off onto the empty Winchester streets. Continue reading Blue Ball Hill and the Blue Boar
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