blowin’ a hoolie

Another run straight from work and another running of the gauntlet of the Hartlepool college reception. Last week when I passed through dressed in full running attire and a pair of black leather Doc Marten shoes it was “you look Austrian” this week in full hard weather running gear it was “you look like you’re going to score some heroin”.

Very funny, I did look a bit hoody black Adidas and trainers. Still, I thought I looked pretty cool, well cool for an ageing skinny legged chap.

The full on hard weather gear was justified, I got to my usual Seaton start point and yes it was windy but boy I didn’t realise just how windy it was.

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Striking out I screwed up hitting the start button on my watch and rather than starting in my own good time I had to head off a bit prematurely. The first thing I noticed was that there was a significant wind and it was blowing off the moody dark grey North Sea and hitting my side on. Hey, that’s not too bad I thought, perhaps it would be the same on the way back into Seaton.

What I didn’t appreciate though was the ferocity of the wind and that a lot of it was behind me, as I sped down the seafront. I got a little taste of the wind I was to face as I turned into the final stretch but I was then two miles from my finish point and I had the full run back to conquer.

The wind did seem at first to be from the side but soon it was apparent that most of it was head on.  The sideways aspect was also a bit dodgy as it was blowing up sand from the beach which was a bit stingy and got into my eyes too. There was a bit nearing the finish when the wind doubled in pace and it actually blew me across the path, it slowed me to a slow jog in bits.

Once I’d finished I headed into the Almighty Cod chippie for a half lot of fish n’chips. I was rather paranoid about my appearance and I could feel people’s eyes on me, or was that the paranoia? I felt as though my hair was on end and that I was covered in snot and tears, my eyes being puffy from all the sand that had lodged in them.

On being served the girl serving me remarked “anything else” I said “Yes, a towel” at which a chap beside me sparked up “Yes I saw you running, I laughed so much”…

He’s just jealous of my consummate athleticism.

Do you realise my mile times were nearly two minutes faster on the outrun than the in-run, that may give you an idea of what treacle I was running into? Still, I felt rather heroic tucking into my fish n’chips later.

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