Run, run, run to Mylor Churchyard (Sunday)

Not my favourite running garb!

Yes, I’m still keeping up with the running thing, though it’s been a bit sporadic this last week.  The motivation to move can be so difficult sometimes, nigh on impossible when you’re feeling down.  I was lucky for a while because I had a good friend to motivate me.  I’d never been running with anyone before, but it’s so true that it’s easier when you’ve got company. You could talk about the birdsong, or your heart-rate, or your love-life  or a possible half-marathon while you tick off the minutes or the miles. But, my friend’s suddenly got a lot of difficult stuff to deal with, and understandably her thoughts are elsewhere at the mo. So the motivation is totally back in my court.  Oh dear.  I think I need to get a plan together, a training programme.  Maybe that would help, goals and progress, all that stuff.  But really, can I be arsed?

I’ve run on Sunday and Tuesday this week, and today too, so far. Actually not far in any case, but the running has been more consistent with less ‘walking’ in between.  I don’t know if I should really call what I do running.  It’s probably more of jog.  Thing is, I have stamina and know I can build it up to ‘run’ for a long time, but try and sprint or run at any kind of speed and that’s it, I’ve had it. I’ve got another friend who’s planning to run the Boston marathon later in the year, he seems to have a full on training programme worked out.  He’s even keeping a blog about it! At the moment he’s running round and round a cemetery in LA.  Think I’d probably end up in it earlier than I was meant to  Still, thinking about Jon and his cemetery reminded me that I’ve often run to a cemetery myself in the past.  It’s a tiny little churchyard in a village called Mylor.  And it’s where I ran to on Sunday.

Sunday was a bit of an impromptu effort.  I’d taken Kim over to his dad’s and when I got there and my usual pancakes weren’t on the table (slack service or what!), I thought I’d leave Paul to his cooking and go for a walk down to the church and the harbour.  It was a beautiful morning.  And once I was outside, I thought I’d run instead of walk.  Sounds ok, but take a look at the picture above: that’s what I was wearing!

Not pretty, but you have to understand that being in Paul’s house is akin to being in a fridge, and when you go there you get dressed up for the occasion: trousers, t-shirt, long-sleeved dress, jumper, winter coat and scarf.  And trainers.  And you don’t take your coat and scarf off the whole time you’re there.  I thought a bit of a run might warm me up.  I got that right.  Good god, now I know exactly what’s meant about running with extra weight – it was so HARD!  Normally I’d fly along the creek to the churchyard, but on Sunday I was labouring along getting redder and redder and wondering if I might need a coffin by the time I got there.  It was an absolute killer.  Normally I’d have just kept running, but that day I had to take a break at the churchyard.  It was a long break – at least half an hour if not more.  It made me realise that it would make life even easier if I got rid of the extra weight I’ve been piling on over the last few months as well.  Now, there’s a goal forming in my head, but I’ll tell you about that later, probably. First, I want to show you some of the stuff I found in the churchyard during my much needed rest.  Some of it seemed so bizarre!

This is Mylor Church, picturesque isn't it, with the sea as a backdrop?

The white building on the right is the separate bell tower!

I was lucky enough to see my first primroses

and a bright patch of snowdrops.

I wonder if you can you guess what this might be? Beautiful isn't it? It's a cone, from a monkey puzzle tree!

And what's this, Rosa fabricus?! Not the right time of year for roses surely?

Or maybe it is...

Oh and the birds!

Well, they weren't as 'cheep' as some of the memorial flowers!

But just look at this! How perfect is this with it's rusty colour and cobwebs - just what you'd hope to find in a grave yard! I wonder what's inside...

After my rest I ran back to Paul’s where the smell of pancakes was divine. “Where’ve you been” he said, “they’ve been ready half an hour.”