Day 30/30 – can i stop now?

And so my juneathon finished just as it had started; waking up way before the alarm went off in the fear that I would miss it. Except that now the alarm is a donkey. I lumbered off around the country lanes, eager as ever not to be run over by a tractor and did 3 miles at 10.06min/mile. Kent makes me faster.↲↲ Back at the tent, Ginge was waiting with a hug and a bottle of water, and I lay on my back on the dewy grass watching the clouds. Until that is I totted up my mileage for the month. 99 miles. Can you see where this is going? On went the socks, the trainers and the garmin and off I went to claim my juneathon century. 9 minutes and 13 seconds later, it was well and truly over. 30 days, 31 runs, 100 miles. I’ve proper enjoyed on it and will reflect on it more when I don’t have to poke at a phone with a stick. What I will say is that it’s been a joy reading everyone’s blogs and I’ve really appreciated everyone’s comments on mine. Thank you!

Day 29/30 – nearly there…

Yesterday I was playing a game of chicken with my phone battery while I was posting. It’s definitely been a bit of a challenge posting while I’ve been in the tent and I’ve been trying to keep up with other people’s juneathons as best I can. It’s also kept down my lengthy whinging about my bee sting (at its peak on Monday it was a 6 inch diameter of red swelling, now its about 3 inches with a hint of yellow bruise).

I know it seems like madness carrying on with juneathon while camping, but to be honest I don’t think I’d be finishing with half as much enthusiasm if I’d been dragging myself out of bed for prework plods sound the village. It’s been lovely running somewhere new and, possibly more importantly, incredibly flat. Kent, oh how I love your lack of inclines! I actually like it so much here that I’ve done some washing so that our neighbours don’t have to witness me in my (barely decent) third reserve running kit.

Today was a 2 mile loop around the farm, resisting the lure of the jaunty footpath signs even though there was a little wooden troll bridge. One day to go…

Day 28/30 – feeling hot hot hot

Bit of a cock up this morning, plan was fine in theory but turned out to be fatally flawed in practice. I ran 6 miles from Dymchurch to Hythe along the sea front, well that was the plan, I actually ran 3 miles then ran/walked the remaining 3. What i hadn’t taken into consideration was that even at half 7, the sun would beat down relentlessly and there would be barely an inch of shade. At the end I met Ginge and stood in the sea up to my knees. God it felt good.

Day 27/30 – quiet

Another early three miles before it gets too hot. Nearly had another wheat view route, but an impulsive left turn took me nearer to civilisation. I saw a cyclist and a hot air balloon, neither of whom said hello. This morning we are going shore fishing, well ginge is fishing, i shall be knitting.

Day 26/30 wheat intolerant

We’re nicely settled in on the campsite now, the only hiccup was me being stung by an invisible bee yesterday (no body, just a sting) and my leg is still red and a bit swollen. Damn you invisible bee.

We’re actually set up next to the same couple as last year. He has skin the colour of mahogany, favours an outfit consisting entirely of miniscule shorts with lime green crocs and snores like rocks in a blender. We’ve also discovered he has a liking for nineties dance anthems.

Still, it wasn’t next door who woke up up this morning, just the donkey in the next field. Camping strips away the potential for run dodging, so i was dressed, bladder emptied and on my way. In the spirit of curiosity i turned right instead of left (if I’m totally honest it was 40% curiosity, 60% forgetting to turn left). It was a bit of a mistake as there were no landmarks or features, just endless road and wheat fields. I’m not asking for anything wild, just that Oooh field of wheat… Oooh field of wheat… Oooh field of wheat… doesn’t help pass the time.

3 miles, 1 funny look from the owner of the site and 2 very nice sausages on a barmcake on my return. Splendid.