Some days, you just can’t be bothered. Some days you can’t be bothered but you force yourself – yes, that was today. It reminded me a lot of the first couple of days in the south of Scotland – I wouldn’t have minded just staying in bed all day, if only I could have, but relatively short distances then did at least allow for later starts. Today, I was under no time pressure to get out of the house, no checking out by 10am sort of stuff, but eventually I did get out of bed and then go walking. Weather grey and not very warm. About one mile on and I bumped into a friend who accused me (correctly) of meandering and that reminded me, ‘meander’ was not included in the spectrum of pace – specifically it is the normal pace when going walking with Pammy – ‘me’ and ‘er’ so to speak. Even that old favourite, head music, bizarrely it was Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne this time, failed to really help.
It really was a struggle to build up either momentum or enthusiasm but after a while I got into daydream mode – daydreaming about the forthcoming cricket season with Sarisbury now up in the Premier Division. Promoted teams normally look to the primary target being survival and that probably for us means 5 wins, though I suspect that the skipper and the powers-that-be at the club are looking more than that in the ‘Gold’ League. After all, the club won the ‘Silver’ League in their first season up from ‘Bronze’ three years ago. We will see, in time, but there is no doubt that Sarisbury is a very progressive club and with plenty of ambition.
Well that daydream helped and took me almost to Fareham and, after a coffee stop and a browse through one of the Sunday papers, I was looking for roads and paths different to normal. So, further East through the town centre and up the almost “back-street-like” section of the A32, not as far as the dual carriageway bit (that leads to the Knowle Village turn-off) but instead doubling back up the hill and a few miles parallel to the distant M27 and down Highlands Road. I had previously seen on internet a path through Ranvilles Lane and so, to alleviate the boredom, approached that and then down what is clearly a favourite for joggers and dog walkers […..which reminds me, I had many a discussion twenty and more years ago as to the distinction between a jogger and a runner. I found some reference then that any pace better than 8 minute miles was ‘running’, anything slower was ‘jogging’. This just about supported my indignation and insistence at the time that I was a runner and not a jogger]. As I got further down the path, it became creepily quiet and felt like the sort of place perfect for muggers and murderers to dispose of a body – it might not be discovered for days – but enough of those rather unhealthy thoughts and back to the main roads.
Through Titchfield and back towards Warsash, entertained by the FA Cup on my radio, cutting through yet more secluded paths on the way back to home in Sarisbury. More than a few car horn beeps during the walk today – whether that was friends and acquaintances greeting me, I don’t know, but probably so. My left foot had felt slightly odd at times due to what I thought was the boot being a tad too tight but it was the right foot that showed off a decent blister when I removed my socks, even though I hadn’t felt it at all before discovering it at home. Nothing to get too worked up about, really a recurrent theme of the walk today. Perhaps it was a subconscious feeling of going back to work tomorrow, and looking forward to five mornings getting up early, even though I had gone in on Friday for a few hours (which at least means I know the place hasn’t fallen apart and that I haven’t received panicky emails over those two weeks). Can’t say I ever like going back after Christmas and I often pick up an illness or something – a horrible ear infection about 11 years ago comes to mind – but at least I can say I am reasonably physically fit at the moment. 16 miles – a good old trek despite my moody mood.