The car (Madame C) is in the garage having her whiny turbo and squeaky brake examined. As I type I feel that I am losing hundreds of pounds…but I don’t know until I get the verdict on how much each noise will cost to fix. So I thought a good way to get back from the garage and get my long run in finally, would be to run a few miles in the wrong direction and then run home. It proved to be a good idea.
Very pleased that the last 3 miles were the fastest. These were entirely sugar-fuelled, thanks to a stop at the wonderful Waldens of Seasalter; purveyors of sugary sports drink at 50p a bottle and a range of sweets of an unfamiliar but pocket-friendly nature. I had Jelly Berries, which proudly proclaim themselves to be both gluten and fat free (which is an expected but possibly under-exploited virtue in something that is presumably 100% sugar). They were a tasty hybrid of fruit pastille and the pink/blue bobbly liquorice allsort. I feel this will be a regular stop in the future.
Tide was out, which was nice. I for once, resisted the urge to bottomise.
These two bullocks get their own photo because they are bullocks that I made move out of my way. I am scared of cows, and quite frequently alter my route to avoid them (I tend to opt for bridleways in general due to the lower cow probability factor). But the clincher here was that they were between me and the gate, and if I had gone round them, they would have been between me and the safety of the sea wall. So rather than surrender my wall, I told them, firmly and kindly I felt, that they were going to move. And reluctantly they did. Like many teens, they stood and stared first, to see if I would crumble, and then good naturedly ambled off.