Juneathon 26/30 – In which I can’t see the wood for the trees

On this morning’s run I was joined by Ginge who in turn was joined by his own training partner/stowaway – this little creature.

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It was supposed to be a bit grey and overcast, but as we ran it was all blue skies and heating up nicely. We did a two mile jig along the lanes, stopping to climb a tree en route. I had to have Ginge with me for this one not only to take the photo, but also for his tree climbing knowledge . I am largely unskilled in the ways of tree climbing due to me (a) having pathetically weak upper body strength (b) having an unnerving ability to fall off things and (c) having an ongoing fear of being shouted at.

Anyway, this is me ascending a tree. I didn’t fall out, but I did graze my leg.

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We’ve also crossed off a couple of non-running treasure sports. Firstly a trip to a Kentish Orchard at Brogdale. I did a Juneathon gesture of a flipflop shod sprint and would have done a tree trunk push up, but you’re not allowed near the trees because they’re monitored for scientific purposes. We did buy some cherries and some apple juice though.

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After that, it was up to Whitstable and Herne Bay for a spell beside the seaside beside the sea. Of course it wouldn’t be a trip to the seaside without an ice cream which is how, mysteriously enough, we conjured up an ice cream cornet without the ice cream

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Juneathon 25/30 – treasuretastic!

Righty ho. I have 16% battery life and a lot of treasure to get through tonight.

Over the last couple of days I have been proper slacking enjoying my holidays whilst getting a bit drunk with various Athoners neglecting my Juneathon duties. Tonight I have remedied that the best that I can in that I have done a proper run (somewhere between 3 and 3.5 miles, Miles and I had a bit of a miscommunication and I ran a stretch without him keeping track) and seen loads of treasure.

I’m not entirely sure who suggested what and limited battery life and signal make it hard to check and link to you all (I do feel bad about this and will try to remedy this when I have more of both but in the meantime you can always lay claim to your suggestion(s) in the comments if you’re feeling particularly proud!).

So I ran out along the seafront, before turn round and running on the sand where I spotted a shell

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And of course I was spoilt for choice in spotting a pebble

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I decided to look up for a bit and saw a cloud that looks like something (a turtle rather than the preferable crocodile)…

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After that, something orange caught my eye…

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There was a warning that there might be an exotic animal lurking in the waters but I’m not completely convinced…

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Maybe I should have been more worried that here be a dragon

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Away from the seafront, I added an interesting plaque to my haul…

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Followed by a proper Cornish pasty (though I doubt that Hels will let me have that one)…

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And a penguin

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Before I scooted off the high street to see a fire engine tucked up for the night…

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And on to the supermarket (which would later see me post-run and sweaty buying a nice bottle of white to rehydrate)…

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And then a final loop back a few yaaaaarrrds so that I could bag a pirate

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Phew!

Juneathon 23 & 24/30 – in which there are bars and baaas

Well apparently I’ve not failed Juneathon and I have to carry on to the bitter end. This isn’t a bad thing, if I had failed I would never have found myself experiencing what can only be described as the pinnacle of Athoning experiences. It is the holiest of holies, the sporting challenge to end all sporting challenges. It is The Dressing Gown Dash*.

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The Dressing Gown Dash. Wearing the actual dressing gown in the actual garden of the actual Queen of the Athons, the one and only JogBlog, who embodied the spirit of this whole daft running challenge by doing a lap of her garden way back on the first day of the first Janathon.

Here we are celebrating our athletic endeavours.

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Then we walked to the pub and I did a bar press up to fulfil my Juneathon requirements.

This morning, with a slightly sore head, I did a gentle 2 and a bit miles past lots of sheep who are in various states of undress what with it being shearing time and all.

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*I have added Dressing Gown Dash to the list as emergency treasure number 80

Juneathon 22/30 – events beyond my control

I regret to inform you that my 100% Athon running record is no more.

The plan for the day was: arrive at campsite, get tent up, sort out belongings, go for a run and be home in time for tea under canvas. It was a good plan.

Unfortunately when we arrived at the campsite it was a bit breezy and despite the help of the site owner and another camper (who it turns out lives in the town where I went to school, isn’t it a small world etc) things didn’t go according to plan. In short, the tent suffered erectile dysfunction and two split pole sections later, we knew that there was no way it was going to be habitable.

We were too late for one camping shop in the yellow pages, another had turned into a furniture shop and the optimistic mercy dash to Halfords didn’t produce the goods. Luckily we were taken in by lovely relatives and didn’t have to spend the night in the car or JogBlog’s shed.

All of this explains how on the 22nd day of Juneathon, I am claiming a late evening dog walk to the beach (suggested by Morning of Magicians) as the day’s effort.

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Applying the benchmark of ‘it counts for an Athon if it’s something that you wouldn’t do normally’ I feel that this is the case because normally I have access to neither dogs nor a beach. On the other hand, if I admitted defeat I could spend the next eight days concentrating on enjoying my holiday…

Anyway, in the holiday spirit we made sure that we enjoyed a local ale (thanks Adele!) or two before retiring to our temporary home for the night.

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Juneathon 21 – Cereal killer

It’s been a slightly chaotic week that peaked last night when we had to dash off to buy a replacement tent pole, do a last minute shop for perishables and I stayed up until stupid o’clock doing the ironing and watching a documentary about Jodie Marsh going off to do an American body building competition (which was oddly fascinating).

Once again I found myself going round Tesco in my running kit, though I did notice at least 3 other women in similar attire (proper kit, not just sporty loungewear. Inactive wear if you like).

Anyway, while we were browsing the cereal aisle I spotted this:

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Which sent me into a slightly sweary rant. Muesli. For MEN. Because clearly real men can’t just have some oats with bits in. Oh no. They have to have MANLY CHUNKS and extra SOUPED UP ENERGY because anything less would be an affront to their masculinty. I despair of this kind of marketing. And who actually wants or needs guarana* in their muesli? Ridiculous.

And breathe.

In the midst of all this I had to fit in a Juneathon run, which is how I found myself being thrown our of the car at the side of the road next to what we hoped was an interesting plaque. It was a plaque alright, just not that interesting ( unless you find the 30 year history of a playing field compelling.

I didn’t need the plaque because I knew that at the end of a mile or so Ginge would be waiting for me next to a kiwi (suggested by Heather, all the way from New Zealand).

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*Not to be confused with guano. You wouldn’t want that in your muesli either.