Up the garden path

Honoured to be invited the grand opening of a newly re-furbished garden however - a little surprised to be greeted on the drive with scissors. There was me thinking these were friends of ours. But no, scissors were thrust into my hand and I was told you will need these, you have to go round the side. 

OK then, round the side we go.

Round the side we were greeted with paparazzi* and there was an air of expectation. The expectation being that I say a few short words to ‘open the garden’ and also cut the bloody great yellow ribbon across the back gate - hence the need for scissors. Small sigh of relief.

I launch into a speech to honour the occasion only to he heckled by the paparazzi to get on with it. I dutifully get on with it and cut the ribbon in one quick snip - an we were in. Kudos to the paparazzi for catching the quick snip.

It was indeed a slate of the art garden, no not a typo. friends had persuaded the preceding lumps of concrete to depart, and be replaced with far more attractive slate. Lovely. All kept in place with rather attractive sleepers. Unusually blazing sunshine accompanied our afternoon of elderflower cordial, coriander pesto and rather nice BBQ cooked offerings.

*Antony with his iPhone

Running a mile…or five

Following the fell trail fit the day of the fell race came, I had quite a few wobbles and contemplated faking a sore knee, somehow I found myself on a starting line with 233 people all chatting about speed and running and what was this route like and oh it’s your first fell run…well just enjoy it!

Strictly speaking, it was not my first fell run. I’d lied. When I was about 17/18 me and my friend heard that Grindleford was organising it’s first ever fell race. Being young and stupid, we knew that was running around the countryside but had not seen a fell race in action. We decided using the wisdom of youth to enter…dressed as a pantomime cow. We ran a round the countryside a bit ‘training’ and the big day arrived. We turn up in our running gear…I can’t actually remember who was the head and who was the tail. To our horror, turning up in the field were all these people obviously from running clubs from Sheffield…this was apparently a serious affair. There were no other people dressed up. None. 

Oh well. Can’t back out know - it was difficult enough going forward in our outfit never mind backwards. We trot out the field across the road and up a hill. When out of sight of all the spectators, and the rest of the runners (not surprisingly) we split up. One of us carrying the papier Mâché head, the other the udders. A strange site I’m sure. We shuffle around the route being encouraged to run by the sweeper. We come to the decent, splash though the river and we are actually quite close to another runner, I expect there were shouts of it's behind you!. We cow up and trot with our tail swinging high over the finish line. We were so embarrassed (being teenagers) we refused to give our names and went into the records as ‘Moo cow’.

So - this time, no dressing up, just serious getting round the course, I was mildly tempted to wear my monkey onesie but I sat down until the temptation went away. The race gets underway all the runners run off the up the hill, myself included. I managed to run past all the spectators and was very pleased not to be the last one out the village. I knew I would be passed eventually but that felt like an achievement. Up up up….down down down the positions. Me and another woman keeping up the rear. To the top, onto the rough  ground, other woman passes me, that’s OK I prefer to follow, a bit of down, more up and onto the flat. I still have the other runner in my sights and make good time across the top of the peak. The decent is fine, the marshals are great, really encouraging. Unfortunately cramp sets into my calf muscles. Stretching then running, stretching then running, I must have looked a bit weird but I was determined to finish. I think it was the small steps down the hill that did for me. Oh well. A last dash down the hill, round the square and to the finish. 

Family and a few locals greet me with a big cheer, I jog to the finish and feel a little sick. Chuffed I’d made it! OK so I couldn’t quite make it to the free orange squash table, but I’m made it! Very tempted to take Leanne’s offer of getting the car to take me home (we live 500 meters from the finish). We hang around for my official time 1 hour 5 minutes and 31 seconds. A personal best for the course - yay. Other villagers are impressed.  I finished 230 out of a field of 233, 3 runners did not finish.

Back home and into the onesie and a lie down on the sofa…oh and a beer. When’s the next one then?

I have registered for Race for Life! You can even sponsor me. I hoping this will be a casual jog compared to the Fell run!