Another steady running week. I’ve settled into a pattern of four morning runs per week – Tues/Wed/Thurs/Sat, with the Saturday one being the ‘long’ one. (I put ‘long’ in apostrophes as it’s not so long really compared with the marathon training earlier this year.)
I headed off to Gorey via the coast road again today. You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve almost nailed this Jersey Eastern Railway thing. I don’t know what I’ll find to obsess about next once I’m satisfied. Perhaps doing a similar thing with the railway lines that the Germans constructed during the Occupation, up to St John and down to Val de la Mare. We’ll see.
Anyway, I’ve pinpointed where the line crossed the main road at Le Bourg. At La Petite Sente past a property called Station House. Ha ha, no shit Sherlock. And a little further along, in Rue du Pont by the Fisherman’s Chapel, a sign on a wall saying Place de la Gare signifies La Rocque Station. My main difficulty now is ascertaining exactly where the line ran between Pontac & Le Bourg – behind the houses or what? I made a little diversion onto the sea wall at Pontac and it seemed obvious that the line followed the sea wall…but then that comfortable theory is dashed as the sea wall turns abruptly inland at a right angle; I don’t recall any tragedies relating to trains plunging into the sea.
I popped on the iPod for a change this morning. I heard a great tip to deal with the tugging and dragging you get from the earphone cords – clip the cord to the top of your T-shirt. Works a treat. I ran through my old favourite Pierce Turner’s collection. An excellent balladeer for our times, plying his not-very-lucrative trade in the spirit of the wandering troubadours of old. The only time he’s made me frown is when he picks on The Eagles as the type of band he doesn’t want to be. I’ll give Pierce the benefit of the doubt and I guess he just plucked them as one of many popular rock combos. Pierce, just ‘cos they’re popular doesn’t mean they don’t make great music. And Joe Walsh is a genius in this and any other age.
Then a few tunes from Fairport Convention. It crossed my mind that I’d like to go to their Copredy festival next month. But I’m not really festival material. I’m not into ‘bonding’ with other people yet I don’t want to sit by myself like a twat. I like my hotel comforts and only a luxury one-man tent with all mod cons would induce me to camp out. Yet the thought of the crowd joining in, late on the Sunday, with Come All Ye and Meet on the Ledge is compelling.
But running’s what it’s all about and, on a pleasingly damp morning I covered a nice 10.4 miles.
Miles on the week – 27.4
Miles ytd – 921.1