SOON I may write about something other than running, but when it's as good as this, I just can't help it.
From Marldon out through Compton tonight on a course devised by Alan, then sharp left and away through a network of green lanes, bridle paths and footpaths. Over one brow the whole of South Devon opened up in front of us, with views over Ogwell Fort to Ashburton and Dartmoor beyond.
Lynda, wife of Alan, led our group and the pace was just right. We ran with no distance markers and no real grip on time, just following the muddy paths. It was running as it should be.
Eventually we joined another bit of Johnny B Musgrave's trail, climbed a bit, twisted a bit, went over a couple of stiles and dropped back down the steep hill into Marldon for a towel down, a fresh T-shirt and a rendezvous with Mrs H in the Church House.
Alan said it was seven and a half miles, and we finished in around an hour and a half, so no speed recoprds were set.
Tonight's nature notes included hedgerows alive with chattering sparrows, a buzzard wheeling around languidly over Compton woods and a tiny skylark barely visible against a heavy grey cloud but singing as loud as he could.
At the pub Mr Fangio, who had been hand-picked to accompany Jamie The Legs over the longer route for faster people, had a pint and a half of Otter while I took advantage of Mrs H's kind offer to drive and acquainted myself with a light, hoppy beer called Avocet. It arrived as a stranger but was soon a firm friend.
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