Monkeys, Music and Mirth

And so the evening arrived when we were to meet outside the Queen's Head public house in Downe, Kent. There is always that slight doubt that anyone will turn up to it as people who say they will come have change in plans.

So as Duncan and I pulled up in my car we saw three people bedecked in running kit approach the pub and then two others scuttle from different directions to join us all.

As we stood there waiting for the church bell to strike 8 we chatted and laughed we were approached by a colourful local gent (read as the village drunk) who was attracted to our gathering. It was here I interrogated the poor soul on his local knowledge which was pretty impressive but it became a little uncertain when he mentioned that the pub we were running too was hit once by a jet and that 747 jumbo jets could land  at the local airport. Luckily the bells chimed and we jogged off into the hot and humid evening.

We were aware that there was loud music being played from some far away place and assumed that it was a local farm who once had demolition derby's  and concerts but as we dipped away from Charles Darwin's house into the local valley the music was muted by the trees. Everyone was chatting and laughing about things and it was turning out that the pack was beginning to enjoy it even as we took the sharp ascent to Bigging Hill Airport. As the route for night runs is a closely guarded secret until the day a few of the experienced trail runners in the group were not aware of the path that runs around the perimeter of the airport which was so pivotal in WWII as a first line defense against the invading armies, around it are remnants of buildings rotting away in the woods which now hide the scars of many a bomb. In fact little did the pack know but we ran past 5 locations within 100 metres of us where a HE bomb exploded between Oct. 7, 1940 and June 6, 1941 

Now the music got louder and as we ran around the border and into a waist high corn field it slowly dawned on me that is was the pub we were going to that was the source, we joked that it was almost a good reason not to wear headphones.

As we got to the pub the band had just one more track to do before it too had a break and we were able to tuck into our ales of choice, I decided to go for a very cold cider as the evening was hot and humid such that I was dripping wet. So, with the sun setting over the pub we got up to leave but not before one of the other colourful characters (read as the other village drunk) told me "To look out for the wild boar in the woods" I smiled and replied "I think I have just met it" and left through the door sharpish.

So the run went on but not before Duncan and I made a detour and ran up to a 10 bar gate to the bemoans of Karien who has fell victim to some of my "detours" but Duncan soothed her furrowed brow by telling her this was part of the original recce and without question we all clambered over it to continue our run along the tractor tracks. I got lost in the moment and enjoyed running my hands through the ears of the wheat whilst the others laughed and chatted behind me with their bellies full of beer.

As the dark began to fall, running under the trees was becoming more difficult such that a torch was needed for parts of it but in open arrears you could still navigate. After a quick break to look at a bomb damaged derelict building we continued on running through a golf course and up the valley to retrace our steps to the pub we stood outside a few hours before to take in one more ale or cider pleased with our run together.

Great times, great run, great company.

Should I pursue a path so twisted?

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

Khalil Gibran

Today's run was simply described by my buddy Duncan as "It was one of those feel good runs for sure." Picking him at 7.30am we got to our destination to do some route planning and reconnaissance for an upcoming night run. The route that I planned was along a few paths that I had never run on before and it felt strange that I had crossed them on many occasion but had never explored them. Some my Dear Readers who live around these parts may recognise the path in the picture above but may have not run off some its tributaries as we did today. 

Duncan and I have a similar philosophy when trail running, calling it free spirit or the need to play, to discover and find something new. In my Magic Forest blog there are many examples of this such as Let's Make a New One Then and it was no different today as we ran a border path we both saw a path leading of at right angles and was not that made by animals but by foot fall of a human, we both promised that we would investigate it on our return journey.

We arrived in good time to the chosen pub that was to be the halfway mark, one that boasted Real Ale and knowing there was some interest in the drinking part it was important that the hostelry was as important as the route.

So the first part of the route agreed as suitable with a nice hill, some rough path, mud and woodland we traipsed off on the second leg of the route. The pace was up a little but the run stopped at various viewpoints or areas of interest and so our attention was drawn to the path that needed to be explored.

I often think that had Duncan and I been to school together when we were younger that we would have probably been the two kids at the back chucking paper at each other whilst our teacher tried in vain to get us to travel what ever educational path she wanted. We are never interested in the path in front but the one leading off towards some dark area of the wood. So, following the route layed out by the path we initial thrashed our way through the weeds and nettles and it was only until we discovered that a land owner had taken great effort to block the way that we turned back but not until the flash of "how can we get over this fence?" popped into our heads but even we saw sense when we noticed that there 2 metre tall stinging nettles on the other side. As we turned back and were about to hit the original path, there was a flash of orange/brown as a Roe Deer ran past and we then heard it thrashing at a fence to escape us but then turn and fled, bouncing and jumping over the corn fields and we stopped and just savored the moments as it got out of sight.

We returned to our route planning and plodded out the final 3 miles ducking and diving through the golf course. I am not always enamored to golfers, I find it a decadent pass time but today, the golfers waved to us and let us run through which is very rare on some courses where they have been known to play through you.

  

As Duncan said "It was one of those feel good runs for sure."

On our way back to reality we laughed about how much our legs itched and stung caused by our little deviation in the woods but it was worth every moment.

Athlete's Monkey Feet

It still amazes me that of all the miles I have run in sometimes horrific conditions where my feet have been have been wet through for over 24 hours, pounded through raw silage, stagnant mud or just sweating from a long distance run that I have never suffered from fungal infections.

I always wash and thoroughly dry my feet after a bath or shower post-run but I had a tell-tale sign last night when I noticed that my foot was itching and on looking a crusting around my little toe...Athlete's Foot or to give its posh name tinea pedis but just be careful how you say it as it can easily be mispronounced and mean something completely different!

All I can guess is that I have picked it up on my muddy run last Sunday and maybe left my feet damp for a bit. Anyway, there is no stigma to the disease, I just have to put some spray on it once a day...and, boy, does it STING and some medicated talc in my Monkey Feet shoes.

Another thing I learnt today was NOT to put "Athlete's Foot" into Google images, it put me off my food!