Marathon Training

Walking with an older friend gives perspective.  Marathon training, not a sprint.

We take the train, snatching conversation between views of trees, dappling light and too much trainline information sharing! It’s hot, really hot for a British summer, costa air con overcomes “oh let’s find somewhere independent” for coffee.

Then set off up the beautiful Tarka trail, alongside the saltmarsh, sheep grazed and river absent. We hear the burble of the curlew, there are black headed gulls in their chocolate summer hoods, the aggression of shelducks to one another.

Big skies with high, cirrus clouds; “mackeral sky”. Cyclists silent, varying in size and seriousness trundle along forcing us into the nettles.

Lunch at Fremington, and a chance encounter with the old bike pictured above.  It looks so very basic, so hard and uncomfortable.  On the way back we meet two people with fantastic electric bikes “Regal Bikes” – they look beautiful, sleek, black and gold with chunky tyres.  My friend loves to cycle so it’s a great chance to chat!!

The river’s trawled back in on the way home: I’m sun soaked and sleepy and the train chunters and clackets over the hot rails; it’s a slow train and we are a little late!







One thought on “Marathon Training”

  1. Love the descriptions here, whether of nature or machine so evocative, I’m vicariously enjoying being a fly on the wall (must have got the wrong idiom there but sure you know what I mean)………


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