Oh! I wanna run with somebody
Oh yeah! A day down near Witney, so prepare yourself for a page full of puns on a general theme of a certain well-known but now sadly deceased American singer. I mean, it’s not spelled the same, but any excuse for a bad pun. How will I know when there’s been enough Whitney-based song references, I hear you say? No idea. I’ll probably just run out of them.
Back at the plot (as if there’s ever a plot in my posts), some of the South Derbyshire Road Runners crew were going down to Oxfordshire for a parkrun followed by a trip to The Farmer’s Dog – the pub owned by Jeremy Clarkson.
That sounded like a good day out, so I was in, as it were.
Setting Off
After some discussion the previous night, I planned to leave around 6:30. Dr. Google said around 105 minutes to get to Witney from home. On Friday afternoon it said 130 minutes, but by evening it had reduced to 105. So 6:30 should be fine. As ever when I’m going somewhere I woke up early without an alarm, and as a result I was more than ready to leave at 6:15. I used the extra 15 minutes to go fill the car with fuel and buy a coffee and some pastries for the journey. I fought with the pastries for a while before deciding to just stop in a lay-by to eat them instead of trying to eat whilst driving. That was somewhat safer and meant I avoided the usual bout of “Gregg’s Dandruff” in the car that normally accompanies a flaky pastry snack.
Getting There
And then I was off on my way, hitting the open road, even though that’s a Rush song. Whitney didn’t do many about driving. My route took me round the east of Birmingham on the motorways and then down the M40 until Warwick. Warwick, wasn’t she Whitney’s aunt? No, apparently they were first cousins, despite Dionne being 23 years older. Blimey! I do get sidetracked when I’m writing these. There’s so many side quests that it’s a miracle I ever manage to finish a post about anything.
I arrived on site at about 8:15, having driven through, at one moment in time, torrential rain. I knew I was in the right place because there was a big sign with “Caution Runners” written on it. And some people walking about in neon pink hi-viz vests. Turns out I’d parked in the wrong place though. The cricket club that owns the start and finish lines doesn’t like parkrunners filling their car park. So after turning my bike around I moved the car to a more acceptable spot. By this time, two other cars had arrived, bringing with them Karen, Sara, Paul, Andy and Dan. We all were asked to go park the other side of the fence.
parkrun O’Clock
There was the usual banter pre-run, despite the on-and-off rain, before we headed off on a complicated course involving an out-and-back banana, then a lap of the cricket pitch, and finally two longer laps down the road and back through the woods. The proverbial “going” was firm but a little slippy because of the rain. Most of it was grass or earth pathways. The return up through the trees was a tree-bark pathway and at the top there was a bit of tarmac. Some of the grass paths had holes, and the taller among us (mainly Paul and Dan) had to duck several times to avoid getting a face full of tree. It was a decent course though, albeit a bit narrow in places.
As for my own running, I felt I was going at a reasonable speed. Once again though I’d forgotten to put on my running watch, so whilst I was recording the run on Strava, that was on my phone in my pocket. I therefore had no idea how fast I was actually running, nor how far I’d gone. It felt OK though.
On the second lap I had to walk a bit through the trees (there were uphill bits). During those bits I was passed by Paul, and then by Sara and Karen, although I nearly kept up with them through the finish.
Ultimately I finished 138th and 5th (of 9) in my age group. My time was 31:02, and that tallied roughly with what I recorded on my phone, so #jobsagoodun. That’s fine. Not my fastest of the year, but it would have been if I hadn’t had to walk on that last lap. Never mind. Can’t get a PB every week.
Breakfast
The volunteers advised that there was a good cafe just down the road. Where? That place down there, with the lights outside. And so it was….
The Steamhouse turned out to be a bit of a gem. The queue wasn’t very long and they offered a fine selection of warm and cold beverages and hot food. While I was queuing, one of the servers came to the kitchen hatch and picked up two nice-looking plates of pancakes. I had to ask what they were, because as soon as I saw them, I got so emotional that I no longer needed the menu. My choice was made. When the server told me he was carrying one portion split onto two plates that sealed the deal. I’ll have a “P” please, Bob.
We sat indoors for ages eating and drinking. Everything that any of us ordered looked really good. I’m reliably informed it all tasted good too. For my part, I received a stack of three big pancakes, topped with multiple types of berry, sweetened cream and fruit sauce stuff (probably a compôte or a jus). Anyway, I almost had it all, but I never can bring myself to eats the green bits on the end of a strawberry.
As time moved on, one of our number, who shall remain nameless, decided that a Full English wasn’t enough, so he went off to get some pancakes too. I mean, it’s not right, but it’s okay. Seriously, I struggled just with the pancakes. I think he has the proverbial hollow legs.
Jezza’s Gaff
Moving swiftly onwards, our next appointment was over at Jezza’s pub, the Farmer’s Dog. The bit we were in required a lot of heavy lifting by the word “pub” – it was more of a theme park. There’s an actual pub, which presumably you can get to sit inside if you book 18 months in advance and sacrifice a virgin or two. Mere mortals are left with parking in a field over the road and visiting the Farmer’s Puppy – essentially a big field with picnic tables, and some permanent tents that contain concession shops, a bar, and a place wot does food. The queue for food was long and anyway, breakfast had only finished half an hour earlier, so we went for some drinks and sat down outside in the warm (but not stifling) weather. It was very pleasant, to be honest. I had an alcohol-free beer, and it was good. I’m really trying hard to find a Whitney-based bit for this paragraph, but she didn’t do any songs about farms, meat or beer, so frankly I have nothing.
Enough
And that was about that for the day. We jumped back into our cars and drove home again. The drive back felt a bit slower. But the house was where I left it, which is always good.
I do like a bit of parkrun tourism, and it’s good to do that with a group rather than alone. In fact, the run, breakfast and beer were so good that I couldn’t be bothered trying to find any geocaches, which is rare indeed for me.
