Since Trenthamfolk Jnr was born, I have never really been able to master the art of sleeping in. At 6:30am prompt, like a daily alarm clock, our son would appear at the bedroom door complaining about lack of breakfast or some other parental responsibility I am supposedly to fulfil as his father. After 6 years or so, I became conditioned to always wake at this hour, regardless of either how much sleep I had clocked the night before, or the presence of the little fella. Most annoying.
However, this winter, the pattern has miraculously changed. Trenthamfolk Jnr is now content to urinate, fetch a drink of water and play with toys without the need for adult supervision, and my brain has finally allowed me to sleep. This is why, this morning, I found myself hurriedly slurping coffee, eating toast (Mrs Trenthamfolk’s home made bread, yum) and donning my worn out Asics for the winter Bank Holiday TrenthamRC Club run.
The car was frozen, so I hacked away at the windscreen until I could see, and made my way to the start point: the Poachers Cottage pub in the village. A total of ten of us tumbled across the bridge over the Trent, and off in the direction of the golf club. Then we hit the mud! This resulted in all the style and poise of boulders falling down the side of a mountain. We slipped and squelched our way through the bottom end of the Trentham Estate through the chilly morning air, and on to Hanchurch.
What followed was a no-less-than glorious run in the winter sunshine. Down bridle ways, up tiny country lanes, through Butterton village, occasionally ankle deep in fields of mud and through the odd thicket. I managed a total of just under 8 miles (Runkeeper) and enjoyed every second of it… Even the history lesson from Lionel. The man is a true legend. The Trentham Club Runners are a fantastic bunch, and I couldn’t ask for a more cheery and supportive bunch of chums to run along side me for Janathon.