Goal: 18 miles at 9 min/mile
Actual: 18 miles at 8:46 min/mile
I’d been looking forward to this long run. I’d spent some
time researching a good route and had decided on a part of Cycle Route 50 going
from Walcote, heading towards Daventry and cutting onto the Grand Union Canal
Path at about mile 16 … and conveniently finishing near a pub. Just by chance
of course.
It had rained heavily the night before and washed away all
traces of the snow but the morning was bright and cool. The path was slightly
wet underfoot but the sun was shining and I was looking forward to the chance
of a nice, rural long run on a new route through the lanes with no
distractions.
I always pop to the loo before I head out for a long run so
I wasn’t impressed when I needed a loo stop before I’d completed the first 2
miles. Typically, it was the usual English lane in Winter. Sparse hedges, flat
fields and no convenient toilets. For miles.
I ran on for another mile or so but unfortunately no pubs,
public loos or moments of epiphany occurred so I carried on until I found a
bushy hedge. Sigh. I don’t care what anyone says about blisters, black
toenails, or chafing. The need to carry loo roll on long runs is the REAL curse
of the long distance runner.
Frequent loo breaks was unfortunately a recurring theme on
this run.
However, the countryside was gorgeous (if you were in front
of me) and it was nice being out and about. The sun was shining and it was –
apart from the frequent loo breaks – nice to be running in the lanes and paths.
I went through a few small pretty villages and past Stanford
Hall. It looked stately and very beautiful set in a lovely estate … although I
soon realised that the pool of water in front of it was actually flooding,
rather than a picturesque lake, when I came around the next corner and found
this.
I stopped and just considered what to do. The water appeared
to be about 4 – 5 inches deep and unfortunately was lapping at the wall at the
left side so I couldn’t even cheat and run along the bank. As I stood there
deciding what to do, it started washing towards me and the water speed
increased and it started getting deeper. A river must have just burst its banks
… Right. No time to stop and think about it. There were 2 choices. Forwards or
back.
Forwards. The water was deeper than I’d expected and while
it only made it up to my knees, the running caused extra splashing which meant
I was damp to the buff. In theory I could have waded through it I suppose, but
if I was going to be up to my knees in dirty river water, I may as well enjoy
the experience.
Well, at least if it was REALLY rainy in Paris I’d be
prepared …
2 bemused cyclists had stopped to watch my progress and I
think I disappointed them slightly as I’d made it through without any further
mishap. The damper of the 2 cyclists admitted that he’d just hit a pothole
further back and had been catapulted into the flood water and I think they were
hoping for something amusing and running-related from me that they could watch
safely from a patch of dry land.
They offered to take a photo of me in the slightly shallower
section. As I was already about as wet as it was possible to get without being
fully submerged, I thought why not:
The rest of the village was pretty much underwater too,
although in the hope of drying out a bit, I managed to clamber onto the banks
to avoid a lot of the water.
The bank hopping meant the speed suffered a bit, but I
wasn’t really too concerned about the timing at this point as I’d already had
to stop the Garmin for the loo stops so the time wouldn’t be a true reflection
of a continuous run anyway. Saw a couple of different cyclists coming the
opposite direction and one of them called to me: “It’s really deep in the next
part! The water was up over my bike chain!” Poor lamb. I hope he didn’t get his
toes wet …
The majority of the next village was flooded too and as I
passed the local church, it was a stone island in a lake of water, with the
tops of gravestones sticking above the water like teeth. I hope the local
gravedigger isn’t relying on his wage …
I carried on out of the village and onto a more rural
section, rarely passing any houses or farms. It was very peaceful and isolated.
There was a lot of water running along the sides of the roads and you could see
the road shining and bright in the distance, snaking up the side of the hill.
Running up the hill - which had looked a lot worse from a
distance than it actually was - I spotted a horseshoe in the newly ploughed
earth of the field on my right. I took it to mean that the rest of the run
would be good. I could use some luck after the tummy issues and the
floods.
I reached the top of the hill and the road narrowed until it
was almost just a track with fields stretching out on the right. The sunshine
meant that I could see for miles and I could see the water shining in the
fields. The road carried on down the other side of the hill and opened out for
a nice long downhill lined by trees. The road turned around a corner into a dip
… which was completely flooded.
However, there was a bank on the right of the road and it
was a good 6 inches to a foot above the water. It was squishy and slippery but
I could climb up it and use it to get past the water. All I needed to do was
run along it and jump the drainage ditches. Simple, right?
This plan worked surprisingly well until I got to the last
ditch, which was a good 2 metres away. There are a lot of good points to being
an eternal optimist. However, thinking I can jump 2 metres from a standing
start isn’t one of them. I missed the bank by at least 4 inches with my leading
leg and splashed straight into the water which was surprisingly deep.
My face must have had a comical expression of surprise as my
momentum kept me going and I smacked into the ditch on the other side landing
on my shoulder. Ouch.
Great. I now had an upset tummy, a sore shoulder and hip and
I was covered in mud. Plus my shoes which had dried out over the last 6 miles
were now squelching again.
Picked myself up and set off again. At least it wasn’t
raining.
Followed the lane for another few miles and the route was
quite scenic. I passed over a few bridges and over the canal twice and the
bright sunshine on the fields made everything very pretty. I could almost
forget I was covered in mud with wet feet and had run out of loo roll.
I finally got to the end of the lane and it finished at a
busy main road. Odd. Also, there was a definite absence of the cycle route
signs I’d been following.
Had a quick check on the GPS … I had somehow wandered about
3 miles off route. There must have been a sign I’d missed. (Sigh) I didn’t fancy
retracing my steps back 3 miles, so I set off along the main road towards the
next village and I could pick up the cycle route from there.
Ran up the main route hopping onto the bank whenever a car
came. After what felt like a never ending hill – but with no floods! - I
finally came into sight of the village. There were absolutely no Cycle Route
signs to be seen, so using the GPS to stay on track I picked it up again and
made it back onto the right path.
Thankfully, the last few miles passed without any further
loo stops, falls, mud, floods or getting lost. I had been wondering when the
wild dogs would attack or a tree would fall into the road blocking my path but
luckily it looked as though I’d used up my bad luck for this run. Lucky really.
I’d also used up my water, gels and loo roll.
