Some more holiday running (I really did want to make use of my running kit on this trip!). Just a few miles from our camp-site is the beautiful Studland: miles of sandy beach with National Trust-owned dunes billowing around its edges as it curves gently round towards Poole Harbour and Bournemouth beyond. After a little play with the boys and an attempt to shield ourselves slightly from the wind, I decided to saunter back to the car park and put on my running gear.
I suppose I could have been all beach-babe and just run barefoot across the sand, but beach-babe I am not, so it was full kit, including my almost glow-in-the-dark Royal Parks Foundation Half-Marathon T-shirt – no chance of me going missing in that little number! It wasn’t as hard as I thought to run on the sand, but the wind was challenging and it wasn’t much fun rubbing my gritty eyes every few moments. It was rather special though, to weave my way between families digging holes, heads peeping out and wondering when they might be released from their sandy pit, young groups attempting to catch frisbees, hit beach-tennis balls and stop a volley ball hitting the soft ground. I looked on as small children willed their kites to hang in the air, and listened carefully to the gasps of shock and joy as the cool water hit the bobbing bodies scattered across the shallow water.
A little of the way into my run the landscape changed suddenly as the beach became quieter and the general noise eased to give way to just the sound of crashing waves. I carved my path through the deep tyre marks of a National Trust Landrover, enjoying the sensation as my feet flattened the grooves beneath. I was now noticing heads in the dunes – I thought you couldn’t go up there – and gradually began to notice that these heads were atop naked bodies: I had wandered into the naturist zone. On I went, head down. Occasionally a (male) body would appear from the water and jiggle its way back to the dunes, but I now found myself heading straight towards a rather saggy and bare bottom. ‘Ooh, please don’t bend over, please don’t…!’ eek! I am guessing my pace and heart rate peaked about now.
My run continued towards a turning point at the edge of Poole Harbour where I could see various boats coming and going, some looking as if the wind might carry them away. Here I turned around and took myself back through the wrinkly zone and into the welcome bustle of the kite-flyers and hole diggers.
Time: 30 minutes 17 seconds
Distance: 3.01 miles
Average Pace: 10.02
Best Pace: 4.05 (!!)
Calories: 49 (any ideas? This is so out)