Took the children camping on Exmoor, in Doone Valley, indeed. Weather was glorious, campsite fab, had great plans of setting my alarm for 5.30 and doing a good tempo run on the moor with some hillwork and cold water acclimatisation thrown in and back in time for a slap up breakfast and a day of jollity.
Only when my alarm went off at 5.30 it was lashing down, or rather, sideways, with rain and howling wind. The moors, whih had looked picturesque in the sun yesterday looked bleak and forebidding. What could be seen of them in the mist, at any rate.
Never mind, set off with scarcely a backward glance at my family all snuggled up in warm sleeping bags and the dog who was looking at me as if I were mad from her nest in the middle. Had a steep ascent to warm me up first of all and then 10k of gruelling grimness across the moor. Then finally had eneough and headed back to camp, only to find, having scrabbled down steep slope mainly on hands and bum, that I had msijudged and was somewhere else. Luckily I was still by the river so could just follow it downsteram until I found the campsite. I am not sure why I still thought getting in the water was a good idea. It was a whole new definition of cold, and with hidden pools and dip I was fully soaked by the tme I got back to base (although fortunately this was only a few hundred yards in the event)
happily, when I got back to the tent, where my family were still cosily tucked up in their sleeping bags, I received a hero's welcome and everyone crowded round to help me out of my wet things and towel me down and gave me hot tea and my wife cooked me scrambled eggs and made me hot water bottles and the dog ay on my feet to warm them up.
Actually this is not true. They were all most disgruntled to be woken up by me lumbering about, with chattering teeth trying to pull off wet compression gear and falling over and so on. There was not tea or scrambled eggs or hot water bottles because we could not light the camp stove due to the rain and in the end we had to pack up in the downpour and go home again. 2 hours in car with damp grumpy children, dmaper grumpier wife and damp and smelly dog. Recognition of my achievement/sympathy for my suffering? Less than zero. The best the dog could manage was an 'I told you so' look.
To add insult to injury the sun is shining in a blue sky now, but I don't care. I have lit the fire and am spending the rest of the day on the sofa with pots of tea and Jaffa self saucing pudding and custard.
" Home. I've gone home, and I'll think of some way to get my running mojo back. After all, tomorrow is another day." (and Parkrun!)
I can just imagine Mrs R , kids and dog rolling their eyes ha ha ! 
What is it that you don't do, now that you do run?
You know you're now a runner when...
Week 9 (!!!) Run 1 How did I get here? 53 yr old non-runner runs 2 miles!
So, would you rather not know?
How do you know how far you have run?
