I’ll be blunt from the off. I’m not quite Baywatch. I’m not even Chariots of Fire. I plain didn’t enjoy sand running.
I was on a week long holiday in Fife with my mother and sister, a cosy and casual kind of break involving books, good food and various activities involved in the sea (looking at, being near, standing in, taking photos of…). We went to a beautiful place called Elie, a scenic spot epitomising ‘quaint seaside life’. The sands are long and clean, the water clear and the weather… well it was cold but when the sun came out it was idyllic.
The very colours of the place were beautiful; blue, aqua, green, yellows, browns… it’s inspired many a painting and I couldn’t wait to run along it.
Hmmm… Here is my stages of running on sand.
Stage 1 of sand running:
Accept the invariable truth that regardless of the precautionary measures you take you will end up with shoes filled to the brim with sand, socks that should now be packaged 50% cotton, 50% sand and sandy toes.
Pick your strip. That soft sand near the dunes is no good, you’ll end up falling all over the joint looking like some giggling, loved up couple and some rom-com involving a beach trip, except you’ll be alone and covered in sand. The best bit is that nice wet sand near the waters edge, wet enough to be hard but not so wet as to create sink holes under your feet. Tide just going out you say? Ideal.
Run a bit.
Panic about your ankles. As someone who is new to this whole ‘real places’ thing, the constant change in elevation, bumps, dips and general non flatness is a real worry for me. I have a fear of falling and breaking something, even on the sand. I couldn’t get a good beat, I had to keep watching steps, it was too odd. Nope.
Hate it. I love the location, it’s beautiful and scenic and has more fresh air than I had in a year of Chinese factory district living but I couldn’t enjoy it. I wasn’t used to this and because I don’t normally live near a beach I decided that I didn’t have to get used to it. I was trying this for fun and I was not having a lot of fun. I was too worried about falling over and failing to get a proper run going to even enjoy the fact I’d bothered to put on a sport bra. This was awful!
Sit down take your shoes off and decide to enjoy the beach for what it was, a beautiful landscape and not a gym.
So there is was, I had tried a miserable 2K and spent so much time panicked and in discomfort that I couldn’t get the Chariots of Fire moment I was seeking. I guess I’m just more of a concrete girl. Still, the view was intense.