Juneathon Day 25: Of rain and sheep

Last night the rain came. Nothing torrential, just enough to keep you awake for a bit before wrapping yourself a little more snugly in your sleeping bag and drifting off again. Rain always sounds louder in a tent. Sheep also sound louder in a tent. We are surrounded by sheep, some are woolly, some have been sheared, all look slightly bemused at the sight of people in running kit. Having said that, so do most people on the campsite.

This morning was a 2 mile loop round the farm.


Juneathon Day 24: Fields. Oh, and a canal…

Yesterday we planned to have a walk up to the pub where we will be meeting JogBlog, Hels and Shaun (I like to count) but the skies turned dark and ominous, so we decided to have another brew first. The wind had picked up and we ambled over to give a hand to a family who were facing the same gusty issues as we had the previous day.

The upshot of this was that we found ourselves invited round for drinks, which is a new camping experience for us. Normally families give couples a wide berth, except maybe to apologise for excessive noise or a ball/frisbee/child crashing into the tent. I am now well versed in the intricacies of Crazy Bones, which as far as I can tell are small plastic figures that are ultimately pointless but utterly covetable by small boys. I’m assured that you can play games with them, but this appears to involve throwing them in the air and leaving them to get lodged in the Hoover.

Anyway, all of this meant that we didn’t manage our pub explorations so Ginge suggested we run there and back this morning. So we did. It made a nice change to have some company as, while the scenery is splendid round here, it is a bit repetitive and I remain tuneless. It turned out to be hot and sunny 6 miler accompanied by a nagging sensation that we had both inhaled small insects. I can now also prove to Shaz’s mum that these are proper country lanes (with grass).

Home to the tent for a very grown up hydration solution (orange Jubbly lolly), much needed showers and Kent strawberries and cherries with our muesli.





Juneathon Day 23: Let the chilling commence

I was reassured to wake up to the sound of donkey o’clock (when one of our neighbours gets his breakfast and eeyores in gratitude) and eventually hauled myself out for a country lane 3 miles.

Even though I’ve brought my Shuffle, it will remain largely unused as most of the lanes round here are single tracks with no pavements. There is just a painted white line keeping me from certain death by tractor.

The first half mile was a bit heavy legged, but the rest was fine and I returned to the tent where I was handed a glass of Vimto by a well-trained Ginge.

In true camping tradition, our first breakfast was bacon butties and a mug of tea.


Juneathon Day 22: Location, location, location

My Juneathon has relocated to Kent. More specifically, a tent in Kent. Today was spent on various motorways driving in the pouring rain at restricted speeds. Despite Ginge bringing me on holiday, we managed an early departure and timed our driving change over to coincide with a breakfast stop near Northampton. I was in charge of the map at that point and (I know this is going to make me sound a little obsessive) my eye was caught by the words ‘canal museum’. Well that was it. A spot of googling revealed the museum cafe would probably only provide a cakey breakfast and, while there’s nothing wrong with that, we wanted lard, which is how we found ourselves wolfing down a full English at a pub next to the Grand Union Canal.

Setting up the tent was made slightly more challenging by the gusting winds and we were grateful for the help of the lovely campsite owners/farmers who stopped us becoming airborne….

The same winds turned my seafront 2 miles into a run of 2 halves. The first mile (into the wind) felt as if I hadn’t run for ages (clearly untrue) and the return was 2 minutes quicker than the way out… It’s lovely running with totally different scenery, especially being able to listen to the waves and the seagulls. Halfway out I was distracted by a sign on a hut in the distance that read ‘Wino Bench’, which I thought was either very offensive or very inclusive depending on how you looked at. I eventually discovered that if you looked at from a bit closer, it actually said ‘Wind Breaks’, which was a bit disappointing.




Juneathon Day 21: Blah

Another morning run so that we have this evening free to run round like headless chickens. Three miles, two runners (and a smile out of the grumpy runner! It’s only taken me three weeks to break him…) and a leaden sky threatening rain.

As of tomorrow, it’s Juneathon On Tour – I have no idea how well this will work as I struggle to maintain a decent charge in my iPhone while I’m in a proper house with electricity, let alone a tent.