Apologies for my absence, but I went for a very long cross country run in East Sussex and got completely lost, so have only just found my way back. It was quite a trip. But I didn’t return empty handed.
Whilst on this epic run, I discovered something completely new about the joys of running cross country – you can pick up your dinner along the way. I had no idea when I set off (for what I thought would be a quick 5 miler) that by the time I was to get back I would have the contents for a delicious pie, perfect for carb replenishment.
So off I sped, down a picturesque country lane – breathing in the cow poo country air (nice) and running along to the peal of the distant church bells. And then boom! Right before my eyes (well, feet) I saw the first ingredient of my dinner, which I nearly tripped over – a squashed pheasant. Yummy!
Like most runners, I didn’t happen to have a spare bag on me to load in my game loot, so I took the initiative by stuffing it down my skintight Nike leggings, I didn’t really care about the fowl odour (geddit?) of deceased carcass too much, as the cow pong from the fields was enough to take my mind off it. So, off I sped again, with a bird bulge in my leggings, looking forward to taking it home, thinking also about turning him into pâté, hmmmm… About 60 minutes later and one wrong turn I was completely lost but continued on. I was about to turn back when, hello! – there he was, a gorgeous little rabbit, just waiting for me to pick him up and add him into the mix. When I was stuffing him in next to the pheasant, I could just imagine them stewing in a pot together, like a culinary dream. A duet of flavours singing to me.
So, by now, as I’m sure you can imagine, I was starting to look like a bit of a prat, and the smell was pretty rough and the juices running down my legs were rather gross. But then I thought it’s only mingling with sweat and I can simply shower it off when I get home, so what the hell. I was now rather weighed down so I decided to take my pace down to a mild jog, just in case any entrails might slip out and cause me grief.
The view now was really fantastic. I love running free through the countryside! I really recommend it, just watch your knees when you’re running downhill as it can really cause some jip if you’re not careful, and it’s best to run towards the oncoming traffic just in case some farmer clips you with his tractor, now that would suck!
I’d been out on the road now for several hours, and was starting to feel the fatigue. I thought it was now time to hitch a lift back to where I was staying, so I could start plucking and chopping my delightful road kill. But then it hit me, that if I was to make a game pie, then there was one key ingredient missing: bacon. What would be the chances of me finding a dead pig on the road? And then, just as I’d started to give up hope – clutching tightly onto my two special prizes as they were starting to slip down my legs – there I saw her, just waiting for me in the field, looking delicious with my name written all over her. A piggie for my pie! But the trouble was, she was still alive. What to do?
This is the part where it all becomes a blur. The next thing I know, several days later, I’ve made it back to my mother’s house with two dead animals down my leggings and a dead pig up my sweater. Mother really did look quite concerned and said she was going to call the doctor. Looking back all I can recall is a rush of adrenaline and a scuffle – perhaps a heavy rock was involved – I can’t really remember the rest. For some reason, there is a high pitched squeal which I can’t seem to get out of my head. But, one shouldn’t complain, the result was truly fantastic. After a good wash down – me and my road thrill – supper was ready and on the table! So next time you go out for a country run, don’t forget to think about bringing your dinner home with you. It’s a treat!