Bosley Fete Hill Race, I have to admit, was one of those events where I came home and had a long hard look at myself in the mirror and concluded 'today Richard, you were proper shit'. There are many excuses, I toiled with them all, but regrettably I have to admit it was my head that gave in first. No more to report on that. On the positive side, this was a classic Village Fete and we were but a side show. Cake stalls galore, including a cream tea tent serving a fantastic selection of cakes and teas from elderly ladies and the vicar.
They were all under just a little too much pressure that made the lottery of converting your order into a thing of beauty just that little bit more exciting. Then to watch the others roll in down the hill and through the field to a well mannered ripple of applause from the locals. The smell of the hog roast wafting over the finish line and the sound of pipers doing their thing. There is little recollection of the race now. I'm fine with that! This morning, I did my usual 13+ miler. Hard work. It's been a great week, not for running around, but cheese and wine!
