Yes believe it or not there will be sand in the Sahara, and as a result I have been advised that it would be prudent to get some miles with sand underfoot, behind me.
No problem I thought to myself, all I have to do is find some nice long stretch of beach where I can run for miles on a sandy foreshore, preferably in the sunset with waves lapping at my toes and dolphins frolicking out beyond the surf - how romantic!
Unfortunately in the South of England I'm left with very few options, I can either talk nicely to the owner of a nearby sand quarry and get some speed work in, or settle for the glitzy beech front of West Wittering.
West Wittering it is then. I book a Saturday off from everything and plan to be up and on the road at 0900, ready to catch the low tide, just an easy 10 miler to see how we go. Unfortunately due to extenuating circumstances, namely being a lazy arse, I don't get on the road until gone midday and as a result the sandy West Wittering, promised to me by the website, was somewhat depleted, owing mainly to the sand all being covered with water!
Not to let that dampen my enthusiasm, pun intended, I set of along what remains of the white-ish sand, dogs in tow. "Hey this is bloody good" I think to myself, the dogs run happily along with me, occasionally whizzing off for a sniff at the rear end of a long lost friend, then suddenly the sand stops and the groynes and pebbles begin.
My easy 10 miler had just turned into 10 miles of hurdles! Not to be out done I soldier on for nearly 2 miles, like the hero I am, until eventually I come to a 10 foot high boat ramp, with sea on one side and a sea wall on the other I have no option but to flake out, I end up on the coast path running along the top of the wall. Eventually I am able to get back on the shingle and remain on this until the return journey of the run.
Besides seeing a massive great bulldozer, which was exciting, not a lot else of note happened the dogs became less enthusiastic about running along with master and slowly fell into line, route marching behind the boss.
I did however manage to find a rather nice HTC phone on the way out, not one to be thieving I looked around, probably with a rather sweaty quizzical look on my face, and saw dad and embarrassed looking daughter running awkwardly over the shingle towards me. Hoping I didn't look like that when I run I handed them the phone and went on my way.
So, running on sand, a good idea in principle if you can drag your ass out of the house in time to catch low tide, although the shingle wasn't your ordinary running surface so not a total loss. I think next time I will head on up to the dunes at Merthyr Mawr, those sound far more appropriate and less likely to be covered by the sea, just got to stump up 12 quid for the bridge!!
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