18/03/2017 - There's a great charity that provides volunteers that visit people in their homes who are suffering with Cancer or life limiting illnesses such as Multiple Sclerosis, Parkinsons and Motor neuron disease. They offer friendship, support, and advice to them and their families, They also give their carers much needed respite. They are Respite at Home Volunteers and my wife is one such volunteer. She was only able to do this because of the training she received through the charity but this costs money and with funding being ever harder to find without support they are finding it increasingly hard to fund the training these volunteers require.So I decided to take a train to Cambridge and run home from there. I'd calculated the mileage to be around 26 miles but with my track record for getting lost who knew?
Saturday morning on the 18th March and having been dropped off I'm on the platform at Hitchin train station waiting for my train to Cambridge. I take a seat on the platform next to a young man, hunched over and seemingly asleep. I start reading the paper when movement to my right catches my eye and I turn to see the young lad flop off the bench and onto the floor. I get up and go to check on him. First hing I notice is the can of Fosters lager that's disgorging it's contents onto the platform floor. So I right that and check on the lad. He's so drunk he's out cold. Cue check he's not in immediate danger then pop him in the recovery position and get him some help. Got the help of a couple of train station staff and as my train rolled in I left him in their capable hands.
|On the train to Cambridge|
|Lovely - Not!|
After a few miles I came across a sing to Trumpington, which made the 4 year old in me giggle so I took a picture.
Leaving Cambridge I got to run alongside the A10 for a while. The path was fine but it was a little noisy with the cars but not nearly as busy as I thought it might be. Still I was used to running across quiet fields so this was still too busy for my liking and I hoped that I'd be leaving the A10 sooner rather than later.
Having run through the town of Foxton I eventually I came to a turn off the A10 that took me in the direction I needed to go, away from the noise and into the countryside. I was finally where I wanted to be, running in the woods and fields on my own. But I got carried away and missed a turning if you watch the following video you'll see me run straight past a wooden bridge, that was the point where it went a little wrong and I got rather lost.
After about ten minutes of running I realised I'd taken the wring route, my phone mapping software was flapping about and next to useless. I made the brilliant decision that instead of turning back I'd use my amazing sense of direction and keep going. That was a mistake.
So I kept going, into the countryside, under a bridge, down pathway after pathway thinking I was heading in the correct direction.
I was wrong. An hour later and I arrive back at Foxton, the little town I'd left an hour before. I had managed to do a full circle and put myself the wrong side of Foxton - genius. So once again I run through Foxton and come to the turning off the A10 where I went wrong previously. Taking the turn I see the bridge I missed the first time round and crossing it finally head off in the correct direction.
Finally I make it to Bassingbourn and stop for a beer and a bacon and brie sandwich - bloody lovely it was too.
|Beer - carbs are important|
|Little houses in Liddlington|
Lager drunk I set off for the last leg of the journey. I'd planned to get the the Chequers pub at 6pm and realised that I was pretty much bang on for that. Picking up the pace a little so I would not be late.
I walked in through the pub door and two minutes past - excellent. Straight to the bar and ordered a Peroni and found a table to wait for my wife to join me. My wife arrived a few minutes later and some of my friends a while after that and I had a number of recovery drink followed. In the end I'd run 29 miles so not too many off the plan - I could have got much more lost than I did, believe me. Next day I had a bit of a hangover, an athletes hangover.
|No more running for me today.|
Respite at Home Volunteers