It feels like ages since I've posted. Life just seems to get in the way... but not of running... just in the way of getting online.
In fact, last weekend was a busy one, interval run using the speed podcast last Friday morning. I thought the intervals would get easier, but I found myself mentally shouting at Laura, even though I knew I couldn't do them at all without her.
Then it was home for a quick shower and pack (including running kit -a clean set of course) before heading into London and then on a train to Leeds. Mr Razouski had a work conference, and partners were invited for the evening for a rather slap up dinner and dance.
Fortunately I didn't have to run on Saturday morning as I may have indulged in one or two drinks 🍾at the free bar and danced daringly. The band were great and seemed to have got much of their set list from the Retro Runners, ( Jancanrun and antet you would have approved of the music, if not my dance 💃🏽 moves 😂) So when I eventually decided it was safe to move my head we headed of to Manchester to visit daughter number two, who is at uni there. Had a most sophisticated afternoon at the Whitworth Museum, rehydrated with water all evening, so by the time Sunday morning dawned I was raring to go.
Our hotel was in Didsbury and I set off along the Didsbury Park a Road in search of Fletcher Moss Park. There had been a lot of rain the previous day, but there weren't too many puddles on the path, and I headed along a long felt wooden walkway and out through fields. I had to stop to ask directions, but then was on my way towards the Mersey. I hadn't realised how grand it was at this point, but there was something really calm and serene about running next to such a wide swathe of water. The bank was rather damp it has to be said, but I managed to avoid the muddiest bits.
I was in the zone, beautiful scenery and even managed to get up quite close to a heron, who seemed totally bemused by my appearance.
The river ran under several beautifully constructed bridges, past woodlands, and through some lovely scenery. I couldn't help but stop to take photos, but felt I could run all day. However, thoughts of Mr R wanting his breakfast entered my head and after about 6km I decided I had better turn round and head back to the Hotel.
I passed several runners, one of whom was the spitting image of davelinks. The track back to the park was dotted with puddles and I felt quite proud of the way I was able to dodge round them or leap over. One puddle spanned the path but there was a pile of leaves in the centre marking a shallower bit. How was I to know someone had booby trapped it? Thoughts of Dawn French a.k.a. Vicar of Dibley filled my head as my right foot plunged into the water.
On reentering the park I had the bright idea of taking a different route back to the road! It's a beautiful park, and I would get to see a bit more of it. Great idea...
Unfortunately I soon found myself running across what looked like a grassy area, but actually turned out to be more like a marsh. My feet were sinking through the grass into the wetland, and I was pretty soon ankle deep in 💦 water. My feet were so wet it wasn't worth retracing my steps, so I just ploughed on.
By the time I got back to the hotel the water had wicked up my leggings to my knees, and the receptionist seemed to find the state of me highly amusing.
But I'd had a lovely run, and at least earned my slap up breakfast.