Running Cala’n Blanes Menorca, Aug 2014

Posted: 19th August 2014 by mockjogger in Running Away
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From about two days before departure date it became clear that this was going to be a different kind of holiday.

Work had kinda gone nuts. Not that that’s a bad thing, but it meant that I knew I would be spending some time on the holiday in symbiosis with WiFi. With that, and the fact that the family had just returned from a four month sojourn to Tokyo with reacquaintance top of the priority list, I reluctantly decided not to pack my runners for the first time in a while. I just didn’t think I would have the time.

With packing just about complete in time for the taxi pickup, there was a tantalising space left in one suitcase. I shuffled some stuff and with a mild feeling of guilt, jammed the Mizunos in there. If I didn’t use them, fine, it was just dead space.

Towards pirates beachTwo days later I was starting at the ceiling at 7am with a lousy red-wine hangover. I had not spelt very well with holiday vibes and an expanding work task list running round my head like they were in some attention-seeking competition. The family was still asleep. I got up as quietly as I could, found the Mizunos, some swim-shorts and the Garmin, downed some water sneaked out the door, stretched, and slowly headed out to find a route.

Pirates BeachIt was warm, but not stifling. I made my way down the main street of the resort, where the only signs of life were a couple of other runners pacing out at about the same slow speed as me. They were wearing t-shirts. I wondered if running bare-chested was acceptable and decided that it surely had to be. I had no running T-shirts with me anyway. A mile later I hit the Pirate’s Cove. A relaxed beach during the day, with a ramshackle beach bar making the best mojitos I have ever had the luck to sip on. Right now it was eerily quiet. An elderly dude was placing out some sun loungers. Nice job, I thought.

Pirates barLooping through an up-market residential area I found myself running past a second cove, which led back to the main street. Some more signs of life now as one or two of the restauranteurs put out their tables to catch the breakfast crowd. As I ran past the barbecue restaurant we had started off the evening before at, a waiter waved to me with an expression on his face that could only be read as “what the hell are you doing ?!”.

Nearing “home” I took a detour down a track to a third sandy cove. Completely empty and very tranquil at this time of the morning. I was tempted to check how cool the water was, but I wanted to make the run at least 4 miles, so carried on. The route back up the beach was quite a steep trail in the cool shade. I was happy with that. Somehow these days I think I get more bang for my buck when there is some uphill stuff to do. A sprint finish (well, really just a slight acceleration to what would be normal long run pace pack home) and I arrived back at the start. 4 miles in 36 minutes. 9.15 pace. Slow but sweet.

up from beachWhen I got back home the family was still asleep. I poured out some orange juice, grabbed the Macbook and connected to the real world until they woke.

To my surprise, this became a regular routine. Seven times for 27 miles over the two weeks. I am really happy I slipped the Mizunos in at the last minute.