It's unlikely Pete had much else on his mind when he ordered the 'Fruity Lesbian Red', as all we did this weekend was consume huge amounts of tea, cake, meat and wine. It didn't stop us all snickering in the restaurant though, that uncontrollable childlike giggling that is self fulfilling beyond the merit of the joke or occasion, any attempt to restrain only adding fuel to the already well burning fire. There is laughter in all of us, it seems, even after a heavy week at work. But once the tickle switch has been thrown, it flows freely.
A relaxing weekend in the Lakes with Pete and Jo, there was little discussion of anything more important than where the next cup of tea was coming from, and what should precede, accompany and follow it. And so it rolled. There was an unspoken understanding that Pete and I would run at some point. That point was 'the morning after'! I was reminded that Pete functions on tea. Tea is the precursor to his moving forwards, whereas tea is my reflective moment, a point of calm to acknowledge what has passed.
Early on Sunday morning as I finished my cup, concluding that yes we had eaten and drunk way too much, but in a good way, Pete slammed his cup down declaring himself ready for the hills. NOW. They spend a fair bit of their time here now. It's beautiful and it appears to me that Pete has himself a new playground and judging by his navigation of the routes and lanes, he's been out and about... a lot! At home, we have to go looking for the hills. No such worry here. In fact, you can't escape them.
And neither could I escape the fact that I felt 'a bit shit' and not in any danger of revealing my inner mountain goat! There was a defining moment, when I sensed the end was near, when Pete stopped and declared 'right, we've got a choice now'. Choice. 'We can just go back from here...'. The word 'just' was presented with a kind of sneer and some kind of questioning of my sexuality and manliness, an option, but not really an option but I'm putting the option out there with the pretence of being thorough and complete...
...but on the understanding that clearly you're not going to take that option, but I thought I'd mention it any way...type way! 'Or...' he continued, 'we could go down there a bit and then back'. Again the same sneer, but more subtle this time, instead throwing in the word 'down', but obviously if we were to man-up we wouldn't choose to go down yet, only a looser would opt out at this stage and go 'down', effectively ending the run prematurely. 'Or...' he concluded, rising to what I can only describe as indifference...
...'we can carry on up into the woods and climb...blah blah' he carried on. The decision was made. Up and up we went. And rightly so. I often preach that running up hills brings rewards that are hard to explain rationally to those who don't get it. But I must be honest, I wasn't sold on this concept. I was suffering from a huge bout of eaters/drinkers regret, not only from the night before and that bottle of Lebanese Red, but from that bloody cup of tea just before we set off. A great run, exceptional scenery and the reward of a cake tasting platter...and more tea.
