Week 1 - Hills, Cows & Mud

During the week I managed to buy the very last Coventry Way book in the old cathedral tourist information shop. I know from the website that a new book is in production and I am promised it will be sent to me in March. I also know that there are some minor variations to the routes, but I hope that using the old book will not send me hopelessly astray. I will photocopy the relevant sections of the book each time I go out, fold them up small to fit in my runner belt, and whip them out when I am bewildered.
Since completing the Toronto Marathon six weeks ago I have only been out running three times and the longest of those runs was 4k. So I have quite a lot of condition to get back into.
I drop Jan, my wife, off at palates (whatever that is) then hack down the A45 to Meriden village hall for the first stage. Fortunately there is nothing happening at the village hall so they will not mind me using their car park. The weather has been rainy, the air is damp. I calculate I only have 50 minutes so the plan is to run for 25 and then turn back.
So its back up the road and right at the kissing gate. I immediately encounter three of the principle hazards of running through rural Warwickshire:

1. Hills: I am used to these as my usual training runs from home, next to Nauls Mill Park, to Coundon, Northbrook, Corley and beyond include plenty of topography.
2. Cows: no trouble in themselves but it is what they deposit in the field that needs careful navigation.
3. Mud: in the corner of the first field the Cows seem to have come together at some point to tread it into a quagmire. I can see dozens of cloven footprints in the mud. Perhaps it is to this corner that the farmer comes with some bovine snack that they all rush for, or perhaps it is the only place in the field where they can get a signal on their mobiles. I pick my way through the swamp.

Through Meriden churchyard; giant tombstones lean precariously over my path. That would be a bizarre death for a runner; crushed under the enormous slab which had been dislodged by the vibrations of my footfall, an epitaph imprinted on my chest.

I have never had any reason to visit this part of Meriden before so the handsome Moat House Farm, built in 1604, is a nice surprise before I turn into more muddy fields.
I realise later that I am crossing the fields of Berryfields Farm. They have recently opened some huge new farm shop emporium but I have not been there. I am loyal to Phil Tuckey at Berkswell Traditional Meats in Back Lane. We have a mutually beneficial relationship; I help maintain his profits, he helps maintain my girth.
I am soon crossing Back Lane, and also crossing from Map No 1 to Map No 2. More muddy fields; in the first variation from the old map the route takes me diagonally across a field instead of round the edge. It is planted with things that look like they might become cabbages apart from the footpath which is planted with slime and puddles.
I am now in a pleasant pasture with lots of sheep. They all scarper when they see me running towards them, apart from one which wants to show it is not intimidated and fancies a staring match. I have reached Hill House but my 25 minutes are up and I must double back on myself. On the way back it starts to drizzle, but I am quicker as there is less way-finding to be done.
Finding my way has been remarkably easy thanks to all the little circular waymarkers that the Associations volunteers have nailed everywhere. Only once, where I was confused as to which was the clockwise route and which the anticlockwise, did I really need the map. I am grateful for all the volunteers efforts, if they could just get round to laying a tarmac path along the 40 miles, it would be perfect.
3.4k (2.1 miles) of route completed. Running through the countryside is tough.  What with all the stopping for kissing gates and stiles, stopping to find the way and slipping around in mud my time is very slow. Usually on these long runs I aim to do each kilometre in around 6 minutes. Today each K has taken 7 minutes 14 seconds.
1.3 maps
3.4k