I had intended to do 20kms or so along the coast today, for a bit of a change. I'd failed at planning an aesthetically pleasing circular route to get me there and back, so I got onto a bus and went off on an adventure to Seton Sands with the intention to simply run home. Or so I thought. What actually happened was I went to Tranent, because I didn't realise the number 26 had different routes depending on the time of day, the day of the week and the phase of the moon. I got off and scratched my head a bit, before running down the less than picturesque A198 and B6371 until I reached Cockenzie, of massive belching coal plant fame. I like to take photos on my runs. Suffice to say I had not taken any photos yet. Happily at this point I managed to hit my intended route, the John Muir Way, which is a sort of coastal walk/cycle route across the bottom of Scotland taking in various old castles, sandy beaches and elusive seabirds.
I started running and immediately realised my mistake. There was the sun, right in front of me, and no shade anywhere to be seen. The gorse only came up to my knees, so my top half was held captive in the full glare of the sun. There was no refreshing coastal breeze to make things seem more tolerable, just the hum of the occasional bumblebee that had braved the heat. Or maybe it was just the hum of madness. One or the other. It was beautiful, it was largely isolated, it was wild—but it was not at all conducive to running.
Never mind, I thought. I'll take it easy, and stop each time I reach a village and get a drink. I've run further. It'll be fine.
Coming in towards Prestonpans, a couple appeared from nowhere and started clapping and telling me 'you can do it!' which was perplexing. At least, until I rounded the corner, and found the Ironman hoardings set up for the day's activities. I don't know if they thought I was winning or losing, I rather suspect the latter.
Shortly after my Iron(wo)man moment the John Muir Way went underwater, which was unexpected. I found a tiny sandstone staircase wending its way precariously up from the causeway and ended up in the high street. I took the opportunity to grab a Ribena. Strawberry, the best Ribena and the one I always crave when hungover.
Off again, and things just got weirder and weirder. I think it was the sunshine, it was just so relentless and I think making me a bit delirious. I kept imagining I was seeing giant bumble bees, massive like the Goodyear blimp. Maybe it was simple perspective, I had nothing around me to keep them to scale. I met another human at last, a runner, she looked like she was genuinely about to expire. I wondered if I looked the same. We exchanged knowing looks that said 'we made a bad decision today'.
Musselburgh ahead, I had already planned an ice cream stop here as it's the legendary (locally, at least) home of Luca's ice cream. I queued up with some people who were definitely not as pink-faced as me and got myself a cone of Turkish delight ice cream with a lemon sorbet garnish—oh it was so good. As I ate it I chatted to a baby seagull which had appeared from nowhere, a fuzzy wee guy, and felt a bit more normal.
I started running again once I'd finished my ice cream and said my goodbyes to the little gull. I trotted over a troll bridge, met some friendly dogs...then looked up and saw that relentless beast of a sun glaring down and Arthur's Seat still a long way away in the distance and thought no. That's quite enough for today. I headed back up to the town—negotiating the local orange march (sigh, it's orange season again)—and got on a bus. I felt a bit guilty about bailing out until I got home, when I found my Garmin had put my vo2 max up to a career high of 44 (woohoo! I don't know what it means but woohoo all the same!) so I've decided to take the run as a success, even though I only completed a measly 10 and a bit k. I will do it again properly in the autumn perhaps, when the sun is less cruel, though I'll still get an ice cream 
1st race, 1st meet with a VRB and a PB! And all before lunch 😀
Top section of HM route done. 
Two shorts runs along the Ridgeway between White Horse Hill & Waylands Smithy & back again
