Christmas eve and instead of doing the usual (nursing a sore sweet sherry head) I'm running around Killerton House. A beautiful estate just outside Exeter. This was courtesy of the local parkrun
In crushingly typical fashion, I'd failed to recce the course, assumed it was similar to Hampstead Heath and turned up in trainers.
Assuming had made a big arse out of me again.
Trainers are not suitable attire for cross-country. Uphill. Mud up to the knees. The only saving grace was that this time it was a fun run, rather than the 5-minute-mile sprint of my last proper race. That meant, after a general bundle across a field I settled into a comfortable pace. Slow.
Delighted to report my time was not as bad as I'd feared and the atmosphere was lovely. Plus I managed to outrun an 11-year-old dressed as a Christmas parcel - and a gorilla. A very merry Christmas all round, I think.
(Stats: 5k/3.1 miles; 27.35 minutes; just off to brother's family for Christmas so no time to work out minute/mile. Better than feared.)