Oops.
No really, oops.
I could tell you about my latest idiocy, or I could show you my shiny new hat. Err….. let’s go with the hat.
OK it’s not shiny but it is a new hat and I’ve finished knitting it. Here’s a side view:-
A very easy knit, by the way, although I won’t miss the endless rounds of k1p2. Pattern: Yvette. Yarn: James C. Brett Marble Chunky, a gift from a friend.
Oh all right, I’ll tell you about what a dork I’ve been. Once again, it involved running. This emerging pattern of stupidity would indicate that I should possibly stop running. Or start thinking. Or maybe both.
Anyway, it being a nice day an’ all yesterday, I decided to go for a longer, hillier run than usual, right out into the countryside. I had a vague route in my head, but was too lazy to climb the half flight of stairs to fetch a map from our mappy bookshelf and check. (Mistake number one.)
So I set off, with nothing apart from a tiny camera in my pocket. No, I didn’t feel the need to take a phone with me: why do you ask? (Oh, all right: mistake number two.)
The route wasn’t all that bad, actually. It was almost pleasant. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I enjoyed it, in the same way that I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I enjoy going to the dentist, but it was definitely fairly tolerable. There were spring flowers to photograph, and who cared if I got mud all over my trousers as I scrabbled on the ground to get the right photo angle, because I’d be back home soon and nobody’d see.
Pausing to take photos is a great excuse to stop running for a minute. You want lots of photos, don’t you? Those daffodils won’t photograph themselves, you know.
The blossom is coming along nicely:-
So I was concentrating far more on taking pictures than on where I was going. Also, a quick glance at a map would have told me that the route wasn’t quite as simple as I’d assumed. But I continued cheerily on. At least the view was pleasant.
It took me some time to work out that I was lost, as the realization slowly dawned that the route back to the village was proving to be twice as long as the route out from the village had been. But hey, the rules of physics can be funny round here, so you never know.
Eventually, though, I had to admit that I was lost. I considered cutting my losses and turning back, but that would definitely have involved running a really long way, and I didn’t fancy that. (Mistake number three, because these things are relative.)
I got to the top of a hill that I shouldn’t have been anywhere near, and paused to try and get my bearings. You’ll notice that it was no longer sunny and that birds of prey were circling, anticipating a large lunch of stupid runner:-
I looked and I looked down from the hill, but I couldn’t see our village anywhere. Hmm. I could see other villages, but it was as though ours had simply vanished. Like I said, the laws of physics can be funny round these parts.
The path bridged a major road:-
But I decided to carry on, optimistic that very soon a porthole in the space-time continuum was bound to open up and lead me straight back to our village. Unfortunately the universe failed to deliver this small gesture of kindness and instead I ran on and on, getting close enough to Blewburton Hill to tell me that I was now really very far indeed from home. Wittenham Clumps followed me across the landscape too: that’s the two tufty hilly bits in the photo below:
This was getting ridiculous (although it was also quite fun). Eventually, I got to the highest bit of hill I could find and stood, hands on hips, staring down at the Oxfordshire countryside, determined to find my village. It had to be there somewhere, surely? You can’t just lose a village. Well OK, I can…
I thought I recognized some landmarks, and even the next village along from ours, although they looked implausibly far away. But yes, that was definitely it. And then, far in the distance, I finally spotted a church tower that looked familiar. And around it, yes I knew those patches of trees, and houses, and roads. And following the distant jumble of buildings, I saw at last the tower of our house. Or at least I think I did: maybe it was a mirage borne of my delirious mind.
That was all very well, but getting back there was another matter. These legs weren’t built for running across half a flippin’ county, you know. They were built for sprawling across the sofa with my knitting draped over them. But other than going back the way I’d come (which would have been a really stupid idea by this point), my only option was to plot a wiggly route home across the landscape and hope that I was in fact physically capable of running that far before the circling buzzards and kites (yes there really were both – I’ve never seen them together before) got me. Ho hum.
So off I ran. You’ll notice that the nature photographs have dried up by this point. So had my interest in running.
The route I’d plotted from up high wasn’t bad, and was at least mostly downhill, but I hadn’t factored on THIS:-
Ah well, what’s a bit of fence-scrambling to add to the mix? Pah, it’d take more than that to deter me. (Not very much more, admittedly.)
I eventually made it to the junction of a very familiar main road. Phew! Usually I’d be whizzing along there in my car, but at this pace I had time to leisure to admire landmarks that I’d never before noticed:-
Each time a car zoomed past, I had to jump off the road and onto the muddy verge. You might think that this was a problem, but actually it gave me the excuse to stop running for a few seconds and try and get my breath back.
When I finally, finally got to the SLOW DOWN sign (ha!) at the edge of our village, I could have squealed with joy if I’d had anywhere near enough energy to do so. I was nearly home. I probably could have run the rest with my eyes closed, although let’s leave that idea for idiocy for another day.
And then, I was HOME. I’d been gone forever. One of the things that had kept me running was the concern that the Stoic Spouse and the twinnage would be worried out of their minds about where I’d got to. Nope, when I got in I found them messing about in the sitting room, having successfully forgotten about my existence and moved on with their lives. Oh well.
Now, you know I mentioned my lazy inability to climb half a flight of stairs to fetch a map before the run? Well that cost me. You see, I’m wearing one of those fitness gadgets on my wrist and amongst other things it counts how many flights of stairs (or equivalent) I’ve ascended each day. Know how many flights of stairs I climbed on that stupid run? Do you?
THIRTY-NINE!!!!
I shall say no more.
Your posts make me laugh out loud…I just love you’re writing style and photos of the beautiful countryside. I’m a “runner” too and am all too familiar with some of the pitfalls of running.
Awww, thank you. I hope your runs are a tad more successful than mine. 🙂
At the moment, I couldn’t run to save my life! I’m glad you got home safely and were able to post these lovely photos though I may need to nap now after reading 39 flights of stairs 😀 😀
I know, it’s a bit stupid, really. I’m with you in spirit.
A nap, you say? Hmm, that sounds like a good idea…
I’m sorry for your pain, but thankful for the joy it brings to us readers afterwards 😀 a week of solid knitting to make up I think! jenny xx
Ha ha, thank you. I must admit that every time something goes wrong these days, I think, “Well at least I’ll be able to get a blog post out of this.”
Yikes, it’s scary getting lost! I am glad that you enjoyed your run however and made it home safe! Have a wonderful week! Hugz Lisa and Bear
Thank you. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I enjoyed the run, though! And you have a good week too. 🙂 Preferably without getting lost.
Sounds as if you must be fit to run all that way!
I think “stupid” might be the word you’re looking for….
I quite understand this getting lost thing. I have maps, a compass and Nokia maps on my phone!
You’re wiser than I am, then.
Your posts make me laugh-out-loud and nod in agreement as, being a fellow runner, i have encountered many of the same issues 🙂 Your photos are lovely. I hope you don’t mind me asking but what little camera do you use?
What, you mean I’m going to have to remove my idle backside from this sofa and go and look up what model my camera is?! Yegads! Well the little camera I took running was a Canon Digital Ixus 70, but it’s about ten years old so I’m sure there’s something better available now. Canon are very good, though. I had it on the ‘vivid’ setting to ensure that colours were rich, and I further enriched a couple of images via pixlr/express. But usually I use a Canon EOS 1100D, which is a good entry-level dSLR (but too bulky for running!)
What do you use?
🙂 I too have a Vintage Canon Ixus (10 years or older) which has reached it’s last legs (bit like me after a run to be honest…a bit blurry and not really quite functioning properly!) so I wanted to replace it. Was thinking of going for another Ixus as I loved the last one but thought I should at least look around for others. However the array is proving alarming so maybe I’ll stick with what I know!!
Probably a good plan. I don’t think you can go too far wrong with a Canon. Nowt wrong with the Ixus. 🙂 Sorry your elderly one is limping a bit, though.
So glad that you made it home safely and that you’ve recovered enough to tell us about your adventure. I admire your tenacity and your determination but perhaps next time (will there be a next time?) you’ll take your phone or have a back up plan as we will miss you if you stay permanently lost in the Oxfordshire countryside.
Thank you! If I go quiet for long, you’ll know that I’m properly lost in the wilderness. But lesson learned about taking a phone.
😀 😀 😀 And this is precisely why you will never find me in a pair of running shoes and baggy pants any where!! My fitness thingy tells me how many hours I’ve been ‘idle’ all day – I find that quite offensive – As if!!
And you are indeed a wise woman, Ms Contented. I should follow your example.
At first I thought you were going to tell us about an accident you had while out knitting! Please don’t tell me you knit and run at the same time! No, that would be silly. Love the hat and glad you made it safely back home. My short walks make it impossible for me to ever get lost.
Sadly no, I have never managed to knit and run. Knitting and walking is fine, though. I should follow your example on the short walks: FAR safer.
What a trek…I’ve had those days where you just have to keep going on the trail, forged or not. I hope you had a good run and figured out where to turn back next time you take it;-)
It was a little crazy, but also slightly fun. I hope that all of your similar exploits have ended well. 🙂
Oops indeed!! Hope your legs and lungs have recovered!
Just about, thanks. I might have to go and lie down for a year or two, though, just to be sure.
Wow, what a day! I’m glad you didn’t get caught in a downpour or get lost after dark. I take my phone when I hike alone, just in case.
I agree, your writing style makes me smile.
You’re a wiser person than I am. (But I think we’d already established that.)
You’re too funny.
My goodness, that was quite an adventure! Glad you got home safely! xx
Thank you! Not a mistake I’ll make again… I hope…
I don’t run, but I have done that on walks! Hope your feet and legs are OK!
Hope you got home OK after your own misadventures! And yes, my legs seem to have survived, thanks.
No need for a map. Just take several balls of yarn and release as you run. When you are tired, stop and wind up the yarn till you get home. 😉
I LIKE your thinking. Why on earth didn’t I think of that?! And I could have slowed to walking pace and knitted the yarn all the way home. You are a genius.
Indeed! So next time forget the map; remember the yarn!
Looks like there were some beautiful views to be had though… I’ve done similar on walks before, oops indeed! How far did you run in the end?
Good to know I’m not the only one! (Hope you returned safely from your adventures.) I was hoping that nobody would ask how far I ran. The gadget on my wrist said it was only 6 miles. 🙁 I’m sure the gadget on my wrist forgot to put a zero on the end of that…
Haha, I know that feeling too! It’s also amazing how far 5/6 miles can really be. If I were to go three miles towards the downs I could end up getting some amazing views from where I ended up!
You had quite the running adventure. So according to my calculations you need not run for 39 days. If you had climbed one flight of stairs a day. So go find that couch, put your legs up, have your favorite beverage handy, and knit to your heart’s content. 🙂
You know, I LIKE your calculations. And I am, as I write, sprawled on the sofa with a glass of wine.
Thank you for your kind comment.
I don’t know why you didn’t cut your losses and set out for London, Dick Whittington style. It was most probably closer and I hear the coffee and cake is good.