7.52AM on a dim sunday morning in October it was complete. 2000 miles in a calender year for the Murph and I. The murphometer is full.
292 days. 2000 miles. 1 packet of cheese biscuits to celebrate. And then we ran on. What else was there to do?
Along the way we saw some stunning sunrises
We chased a lot of birds
We ran a lot on the beach under beautiful clouds
We ran through the fields under beautiful clouds
We climbed up to look at more clouds
We posed in the sun
We ran at sunset
We found some cool fungii
And when we hit 2000 we shared a packet of cheese biscuits – does life get any better?
When I say shared I mean Murph ate nearly all of them. He deserves it. I’m so proud of him, he’s come a long way in so many different ways, we both have.
I had a plan. It was a good plan. I tried to execute the plan. I failed. Maybe.
The plan was to run overnight on the solstice weekend between dusk and dawn, so from 9.34 PM to 4.57AM. I would do it mainly on the beach as the tides were right for most of it.
So I packed a drop bag and set off with Murph last night at 9.34 on the dot. We left the bag hidden on the beach as dusk set in and off we went. It was fun, it was different but something was off. I didn’t feel like the running was right, once it was totally dark it was harder than I thought to keep going over the rocks with a headtorch only – and to do it safely I was slow – which was fine by me. but something was off. Just a feeling. We covered 14 miles or so with a few rest breaks at the bag. but something was off. The ankle played up worse than normal and I think the battering it took on the rocks, the stumbles and incorrent foot placements had blown it. It was no excuse I’ve run through much worse pain than that.
After I while I realised that I wasn’t going to do the full seven and a half hours and once I came to terms with that then the pressure – albeit pressure only I had placed on myself – lifted and for the last few miles and the trip home through the fields and woods I was refreshed. I took the time to think about the whole experience and realised that in failure I had learned a lot more. Once we were off the beach I could turn my headlamp off and just move without having to cooncentrate fully on every step. I no longer had to worry about Murph (in his led collar) as the fields hold comparitively few dangers compared to the beach. I realised that much of my stress on the beach was worrying about him in the dark, I couldnt see what he was doing or exactly where he was. It struck me that in the total darkness I couldnt see him enjoying himself – Thats why i love to walk and run him – And in the dark I couldnt.
It was a good plan and it failed not because I failed but because it was a plan I came to realise didn’t matter. The failure would have been to not try in the first place. We got home around half two, I could I suppose have stuck it out for two and a half more hours in the fields but I would have done that just to make up numbers. It didn’t matter anymore. We woke at 7 and walked to the beach – and I could see him loving it, having fun and because I could see that it made all the difference.
I may have failed at one thing but I suceeded at a lot more last night.
Dusk at the path to the beachIts the sandy bit … before the rocksThe lighthouse at Nash hoves into view – Look up – fall overWorlds worst photo of a lighthouseMet this little dude when i nearly put my hand on im climbing a rockThe best bit of the whole night – sharing a huge packet of cheese biscuits with MurphWhat the hell are we doing said the green eyed goblinNo excuses but hours of running over these with just a headlamp drains your mind (and rolls the ankles)No stopping – heading home on the last leg – when i say it was dark — its dark out there