Hill run | redhenrun

Horse Chestnuts

Ah! Autumn. As if Saturday’s sudden dip in temperatures and onslaught of rain were not signs enough of the changing seasons, I spied these chestnuts on my Sunday run.

Note the rainwater dripping off them. The rain showed no sign of abating all morning. I am convinced that there’s an intelligence in those clouds and of a rather malevolent sort: they knew I had a run to do.

Do I get extra points for running in the rain? Well, I decided for myself that I can, at the very least, exchange a long slow run for a quick challenging one when persistent rain is at play.

And so, on Sunday, I took on Killer HillL two and half miles of steady ascent. Don’t they say the higher up one climbs above sea level the colder it gets? Despite my running efforts, it was pretty chilly and a whole lot wetter by the time I got to the top. My thoughts were with Unsportywoman and her Point to Pinnacle challenge way down there in Tasmania. Ouch!

Of course,my hill run was a toddle in the park compared to her that.

Though Sunday is a peak day for running, there wasn’t another runner in sight for the duration of my trot. A sure sign that I am nuts.

But there was water everywhere. Gurgling down gullies, dripping off leaves, lodging into roadside puddles all about me.

And, of course I was soaked through. Having experimented with various rain jackets in the past I have found none that satisfied my need to be waterproof and cool. So I opt for being wet and cool instead.

Luckily, I had my sun visor on. It’s nifty sun shielding peak doubles acts as a roof gutter, as it were, in the rain. So my upper view is framed with it’s sturdy rim drip, drip, dripping in a merry little stream but at least, keeping the blasted stuff off my face.

The other bit of good news is that when the rain hits, I get instant oomphh in my legs. I don’t want to hang out there any longer than necessary so everything is done at a consistent gallop. No stopping to take any pics for my faithful follower, no admiring the hills in the mist. Just get it done.

The horse chestnut tree? I took that photo at the very end of my run. Just at that point where I was wet enough to be screaming for home, but too damned warm to bear the stuffiness of the car for the trip home.

And, wouldn’t you know it, just as I am heading for home the sun cracked through the cloud banks. I rushed back out again to bask in the warmth of Ardgillen’s walled garden and delight in some autumnal joys.

And maybe pass that on here to my faithful follower’s heart.

At the entrance to the walled garden

Walled garden walk

Dahlia

Dahlia Kenora Valentine

Pear Tree

Archway

Lilies

Climbing roses

Peace Rose

Lá Fhéile Pádraigh Dhaoibh go léir! Happy St Patrick`s Day to you all!

And I celebrated…
…with a run, of course!

St. Patrick’s Day means a day off work for many of us here in Ireland. It may be true that some people still spend that day in the pub. Others are certainly out and about at parades. Then there’s the traditional sort who spent Patrick’s Day just as we did growing up: Mass in the morning, shamrock pinned to our good coats, dinner at 1 pm and a gaelic match of some description in the afternoon.

Of course, being the contrary sort, I did none of these things today. Instead I decided the time had come to take on Killer Hill.

Killer Hill is 5km of winding, rising, undulating hell. I haven’t run it this year at all. I depend on decent daylight for that and, even though the weekend would surely afford me that, I prefer to spend those runs on grass. So, it was time to woman up and take it on.

I took the camera along too. Just so I might snap a little shamrock for you all. But Mother Nature was not so benevolent in her shamrock dispersals this side of the country. In fact, I only encountered two bunches. And both of them were being worn my an elderly couple.

Mind you, they made an interesting sight. They harked back to another era. She, with her neatly pressed dark red wool jacket, skirt and tan tights while he was in a lightly pin stripped suit: their Sunday best. They could’ve come straight out of the Ireland of the Seventies.

There were lots of people about too, of course, and plenty of traffic too. The weather seemed to suit everyone, with little wind, some sunshine and temperatures hovering happily around the 12 degree mark.

And it all helped to take the pain out of my uphill struggle.

Downhill was a breeze of course. Luckily I realised that I’ve rather a bad habit of switching the brakes on when heading downwards. This time I just gave into the hill and enjoyed the sensation of actual running as opposed to my normal shuffly jog mode.

Oh, and I’ve been running this past week. Don’t mistake my Dalkey blogpost or my beetle-like meanderings as a sign of me slacking off. I am happily out of the illness and injury mode and I’ve run four times in the past week.

But I am definitely running inside my comfort zone a lot of the time. No change of pace, no intervals, no hills just comfortable four mile jogs. And that’s something that will have to change.

Anyway, 6.3 miles done today and Killer Hill conquered. Hopefully, this marks an improvement in my training habits.

St. Patrick’s Day was traditionally a time for sowing the spuds, or giving the lawn its first cut after the winter months. Maybe it will prove the time for me to implement improved training patterns.

Back at the Chook House, the Teens had no interest in attending the local parades. So we celebrated with food instead. No, not bacon and cabbage or corned beef.

But Spiced Root Vegetables with Lime and Mint. It’s from the wonderful Domini Kemp,you’ll find the recipe here and it’s both easy and delicious.