From the Sublime to the Rubbish and then...? Days 33-35

An uneventful and actually enjoyable first run (these ones can be really tough sometimes) took me further away from Eldorado past the blinking lights of the intersection that would take me towards the interstate. Not for feet. After the second run, I was lucky enough to chat to Dylan Mathews, top man of Peace Direct who wanted to catch up and see if there was anything he could do for me and Going The Distance. We had a nice chat, but the stand out was when he revealed that he had shared news of GTD with the Peace Builders around the world and they were amazed that someone was doing this for them and revealed that they took great encouragement that people knew about and were learning more about their work. I said all I could, which was “Thanks for letting me!”

This was just one of a series of runs where I set off in good nick, covered the miles well, stuck to the pace (mostly...the legs keep wanting to go faster, but they're naughty. I reign them in.), got to the RV happy, ate well and repeated. We're in really sparsely populated areas now, with the bulk of the traffic relating to the local oil fields, which means big trucks, some scary oversize roads and the trade off between headphone volume and listening for traffic coming up behind me when I'm on a “run in the middle of the road” tip. This is quite a lot, to be honest with you and I'm probably doing an extra mile a day just weaving! My only human interaction apart from Nads and the phone call was with a friendly passing driver who asked if I needed a ride. Answer: “No thanks, I can't as I'm... (you get the picture)”. Reality: Wonderfully – no! I'm having a ball today!

My animal interactions were varied, but still mostly aerial. However, I did have my longest dog chase yet. I love it when the dogs just run after you barking and wagging, not having a clue what they're doing and not caring, then you turn round and shout and they look all worried, before continuing as they were as soon as you turn round. I'm sure one of these days I might have to deal with a dog that has a very good idea of what it's up to. I just hope it's little or scares easily. A wonderfully intact skeleton of a deer which appeared to have suffered a pelvic fracture was a cue to just stop and stare at how amazingly functional the skeleton is, with every protuberance and recess having a job and the way that different groups of species have evolved and changed these just bends my mind. I wonder if there's anywhere/anyway for our species to evolve further, or more importantly, is there time for us and other vertebrates to change in a positive way? I guess I'll never know, but remember – there's still a chance for us to make what difference we can to make sure someone/thing finds out.

Ah...It's great when a day is just routine and things just work well, including me. I treated myself to a “Blue Paddle” a nice pilsner by New Belgium Brewing, with the paddle in question being for table tennis, not a canoe. Must be Forrest's favourite?

Start: Sneaky back road off the 190. Finish: Junction of Highway 190 and 137. 30.4 miles.

Surprisingly staying at the junction of two highways wasn't the worse decision and we got fairly decent rest and the planned mileage was one of those magic days with a 2 at the start of it as we wanted to just get to Iraan to do the chores and resupply. I'll take doing extra miles the next day if it means getting up and being able to run out the door of the RV without a trip back to a distant location. We woke up to a slight chill in the air and stepping out of the RV into the murk of the pre-dawn I felt I could eat the first run for breakfast and as the sun rose behind the clouds Texas seemed to just open up before me and as I turned round to see the rays of sun stream through a gap in the clouds I felt very special indeed and also simultaneously missed home more than I had at any point. Maybe it was because I felt guilty, like a kid who'd stolen the last of the chocolate to go and hide under the stairs and eat it on his own… You are invited to eat my chocolate and share my views. You can even share the pain if you want, though I fear it would not subtract from my own!

Two more great runs followed and the last one was by far the most eventful, for good and for soul-sappingly rubbish. Not long after lunch I set off on this run, only 6 miles to Iraan and a 3pm finish and an opportunity to do some fun stuff for the page as well as the mundane jobs. I crested a hill to see a bird in the middle of the road. Not a vulture this time and alive. I got closer and it didn't move away, it just looked at me and walked to the side of the road. Now this is not normal behaviour in my vet book and I walked closer to see if it was injured. So close in fact, I was able to pick it up. It was a roadrunner. An actual meep-meep roadrunner and here I was, out-doing Wile E. Coyote in his 64 year quest to catch one. It was missing a few wing primary feathers and had a superficial wound to his wing, but no breaks and felt in good condition – maybe another near coyote miss. It was also fairly juvenile and my normal advice as a vet would be to leave it well alone, but this one was in the middle of the road and I wasn't thinking straight, so I signalled to Nads as she came over the hill to stop and after she had hurriedly pulled over onto the verge, I handed it over, for us to reconvene and hatch a plan. As I stepped into the RV I saw a big old plank of wood in the long grass that someone had just chucked there and sighed. Roadrunner was now Jenny's latest passenger. About a mile down the road I had what was undoubtedly the biggest “wow” I've had so far – or at least since the beautiful bayous of the Cajun states. Nah. It was this. Had to be. Coming out of a rock lined gully to a huge expanse of mesas, valleys, peaks and it was to put it mildly, majestic. Kathy had informed me in Eldorado there was a huge hill leading to an ancient sea bed near Iraan and you could imagine this being an octopus' garden a million years ago (Pardon my timeline, archaeologists…). I caught a similarly open mouthed Nads at a picnic area halfway down the hill and set about taking photos etc. We also called a very helpful vet clinic, the AMC in Fort Stockton, where Crystal and the attending vet thought it was probably best to try and find a safe spot near where we found him. Myself and Nads had thought this after the event and were happy to take a more informed opinion. Up the hill we headed and after we saw the spot, we turned round into a “what can go wrong, will go wrong” situation. Nads saw the spot late, called me as I had to deal with a drink going everywhere, I couldn't comment and Nads pulled sharply onto the same verge she had done earlier. Pfffffffffffffffffffff….

Instantly I knew. Tyre. Another tyre. It got worse. It was a huge screw from that sodding plank someone had so carelessly discarded. I could tell Nads blamed herself instantly, as she broke down. “It's ok. An accident. Nothing you can do and nothing done wrong. We know we can drive on three rears, get down the hill, I'll run back with Roadrunner and see you back there.” That's what I did. I found the same spot, and climbed down some rocks so it wouldn't just go straight back on the road. I waited for the rock to shift, breaking my leg, or a rattlesnake bite whenever I place my foot, but they never came. I put the little fella down and wished him it luck. Feeling hugely guilty. I got back to Nads and she had already arranged a tyre store to assess the damage (turned out to be an irreparable tear) and she set off, for me to run the last few miles into town – far too quickly, I may add.

Iraan is the second largest town in the second largest county in the second largest state in the US and has a population of just over 1500 people (and apparently a very fine marching band and football teams). I find it somewhere between at least intriguing and maybe a bit less than mind-blowing that the equivalent on the UK is probably East Kilbride, which has a population of about 74,000. There are rumours that there is a secret underground city here and a sign on the way in saying poison gas is occasionally produced in the area! Of course all we were to see of Iraan was the inside of a tyre shop (Cheers to Oscar for doing the best he could given limited time and resources), a service station to visit an ATM to pay for the new tyre and now Nads is inside the laundromat, doing the washing, probably sensing that I need a bit of time on my own. This was a bill we could have really done without and will probably recur as Oscar only had a part-worn tyre to do the job. That's $600 on a 3 and a half tyres in a week. Apart from the advent of the creak, this is the worst I've felt on the trip. It's not even that significant in the big scheme of things, but it feels like a death by a thousand cuts sometimes and makes the massive wins of the vast majority of the day vanish. The good thing is that the bad things generally persist less in the memory.

Sorry Iraan, if we were a bit reclusive or didn't smile as much as usual. We're alright normally. We've just had a crap day. I also didn't see any underground base or gas, I think you're just a nice little town, getting by. Keep on.

P.S. I hope you're alright, my little roadrunner friend. I still feel like I did something wrong.

Start: Junction of Highway 190 and 137. Finish: Iraan. 29.35 miles

New day. New day. New day. I thought that when I went to bed last night and I was still thinking it this morning. No new niggles. Good. Weather going to be great for running. Good. Lie-in. Good. No point getting up early when I'm about to leave Nads with a load of jobs that I'm eternally grateful for her to be doing that really require light. As I got out of the van, I heard distant strains of a marching band and I recalled that Iraan was famous for its Big Red Band and I followed the music to the home of the Braves, Iraan's high school sporting teams. It was (relatively) freezing cold and I was super impressed with their sound and e obviously well drilled as well as talented. I sat down in the grandstand and said hello to one of the drum majors and she asked me if I'd been the guy who she'd seen running. Assuming I hadn't narrowly missed a race or an escaped lunatic, I was pretty sure it was me and owned up. In the process of explaining what I was up to, a load of the guys watching the band practice from the bench (Do bands have substitutes?) came over and were really excited (mostly by my accent, I'm sure!), which was the pick up I needed. You can't beat youthful enthusiasm and I usually have loads of it, but I seemed to have misplaced it somewhere yesterday. I wished them luck for their upcoming competition and headed off to my start point, taken aback by their friendliness. I realised the enthusiasm was actually in my pocket, next to a gel wrapper. I now needed memories of Iraan and snapped away, including a short video that was puntastic – check Facebook in the near future! I began the climb (pretty severe) out of Iraan (built on oil) and was really chuffed to see lots of wind power on the horizon and on distant mesas. I saw a sign earlier in Texas saying no to windmills and yes to heritage and this annoyed me a bit as there'll be no importance in heritage if we don't take care of the future. I know some people think windmills are an eyesore, but it's not as if oil derricks are much different. To be honest, I weirdly like the look of them both and respect Texas's history as an oil producing state and hopefully it can become a world leader in renewables as it's got the sun, wind and space and it should be the oil companies' (who've got the money) responsibility to push this and also to look after the people who've served them so well, in places like Iraan.

The scenery was spectacular again and my heart sank a bit as we turned away from a minor road we had planned to take, but eschewed because over fears over passability and nabigation, as well as remoteness and our ideal need to be close to some sort of data beamy device. Fortunately, we didn't get a poor substitute and running down the I-10 service road was a treat as the interstate was just next door, so I could indulge in my favourite habit of running in the middle of the road. We'd decided to have yet another short day, as there just wasn't anywhere good to stop overnight beyond the 27 miles mark. Nadine had asked me last night how much I was actually enjoying the run and, in my melancholy I replied 6 or 7, probably meaning 6. That isn't good enough really and I know if it wasn't for the charities and people at home believing in me – a persistent 6 would mean home time. Fairly early in the run after meeting the Big Red Band, I was a solid 8 and later on I'd progressed to a 9, with the only thing stopping it from being a 10 was the lower mileage, when I felt I could have ran and ran. I ran past loads of oil derricks and one thing you may not know is that they really smell! There's a petrol/garage type smell and also often a heady whiff of sulphur and you can tell the direction of the wind from where you and the well would be, it's that obvious! Again, maybe strangely, I like the smell and it makes me hungry, which was handy as it was coming up to dinner time. I got into the RV to see Nads brandishing the video camera, interested to see if my mood had improved or, even worse, deteriorated...but it wasn't! It was a trap! She gestured for me to turn round and handing me my post-run shake was Olivia, a friend of many years, with the friendship formed over a mutual love of similar music and a hastily arranged trip to see the Rolling Stones on the Isle of Wight! I often try and surprise people and so am quite adept at seeing plans being hatched, but I didn't have the faintest idea that this was on the cards and was lost for words, apart from a stream of gibberish. We had beers at sunset as she'd brought some lovely Shiner Wicked Ram IPAs with her from Indianapolis where she was visiting family. As we were regaling each other with opur recent travel adventures, a roadrunner hopped onto our wing mirror and let us take photos. I think it was a sign, like Baxter in Anchorman with the bears. Our mate was alright.
What an end to a day that had already been great. A whizzbanger. A humdinger. Boss. A 10.

Start: Iraan. Finish: Exxon just off I-10 Bakersfield. 26.9 miles

Total: 988.23 miles

Someday We Will Find the City of Gold. Days 30-32

It's so alien waking up in the dark to me. I know this might sound weird, but I can be quite a lazy person. I like having things that need to be done, like an approaching deadline, a request that can only be done that day, or 30-odd miles that won't run themselves. If I don't have something like this, or have even a slightly sketchy excuse, I'll take it. Getting up at 6am has to be worth it then. Today it was. I got dressed in hi-viz as it's usually pitch black at this time and put on my mini cycle lights to at least make a car feel guilty if it cleans me out on the shoulde

When I stepped out though there was an amazing full moon, which my camera phone couldn't even handle! I aimed to get as many miles done before it got super hot, which was the agenda for the next three days as the Texas summer raged against the dying of the light. Just give it up Texas, we won't think anything less of you!

Four miles down the road I took the Google mapped turn off to the right which was pretty much a dirt track, but I was happy about is as it's the closest I've got to trail running apart from if the breakdown lane is non-existent. Fresh from my disaster at Mason I was acutely aware that this was a getting lost opportunity and I'd only gone wrong about 400m when I retraced my steps to see that the “road” actually went through someone's fence with no gate. I figured that unless they had a ferocious dog that I hadn't seen, I'd give it a go, after all, I like the excuse to run fast! No dog, no shotgun being readied and I found a way out over a gate a mile away that said that I had been trespassing...a little. I blame Google. He said it was OK. NB! I only said Google was a “he” in this instance as I'm sure female Google would have been more careful…

The run into Menard was pure farming country and it reminded me of a cross between certain aspects of the UK and Australia, merged together, maybe with the sun starting to make its presence felt, the latter dominated. Accompanied by the obligatory vultures and “Burning” by The War on Drugs (which you may have heard on my “trailer video” on Youtube – if not – give it a watch on my channel, runroblarun. It's pretty good...as I didn't have much to do with it. Cheers Fin!), who you should check out if you don't know them. I'm waiting for a stretch of road to do them justice when I play the two albums I've got back-to-back, as it's ultimate road trip music. Maybe the Guadalupe Mountains...SOON. After Menard, I got reacquainted with a good old buddy of mine – the 190. We've come a long way since the death bridge of Baton Rouge and it was just off the 190 where we found a sneaky place to stay for the night and had a nice relaxing evening, feeling not too tired and knowing tomorrow was going to be a shorter day. I like.

Start: Hext. Finish: Highway 190/FM 864. 33.98 miles

Short day! Short day! Due to the need for supplies, fresh water and empty grey/black water tanks we had to make a big trek off route to San Angelo to stay in an RV park as they're pretty non-existent on this part of our run. We decided to go for another early start as it worked well the previous day and if we got our agreed mileage of 24 miles done, we might get into town early enough to watch Liverpool play Man United. No ulterior motive. Even though it's a pretty big distance still, it just feels like a day off, especially with lure of more free and fun time on the horizon. 8 miles in I came to the Toe Nail Trail (Note: My toe nails are in surprisingly good nick so far! Rotating my trainers seems to be at least not making things worse.), which was the best marker for us being halfway through Texas. It seems like an age ago that we met Jeremy and his Golden Triangle Strutters at the border and in Beaumont, but also not very long at all. Curious. The rest of the running was fairly standard fare, though it was getting pretty hot and the headwind/hills were ever present. I didn't care. Early clock off.

We set off on the highway to San Angelo with a plan, that spectacularly unravelled itself, along with the tread on our right inside rear tyre, with a bang and a lot of further commotion. When we got out to inspect we saw remnants of the tyre stretching back down the highway. Nads went and chucked the big bits to the side of the road and I called the breakdown people as I didn't fancy the task at hand given Jenny's size. While we were waiting for this, we had a friendly local trucker, Adrian come up behind who reckoned we could limp to the town if we let the buggered tyre down a bit and he also advised us to change one of the other rear tyres. When we got there after a frustratingly and anxiously slow drive, we found we needed three. $440 later we were up and running. So frustrating to get a big bill so soon after getting Jenny, especially as the tyres all looked good when we got her. I don't rule out more…

The match was crap. What was good though was meeting a local couple: Lisa and Pat who pledged to follow us and tell everyone they know about the trip. After they'd left, I went to the bar to find that they'd left two beers behind the bar for us. Very kind. The kindness continued later into the evening when we met Cynthia, a professor in Kinesiology at McMurry University, whose husband is now a coach, but used to be a former US Marine. As such, they were well aware of the Gary Sinise Foundation and Cynthia even posed with the beard! She wants to let her students in on the runroblarun madness as well. Later, as I went to the showers, she handed me $20 for me to take Nadine out for some food when we next could and she wouldn't take no for an answer! Tonight was not that night, as Nads had rustled up some burritos with an amazing salad. She's getting really good (not that she was ever bad) at making filling meals that taste great, which is obviously handy as my appetite is often terrible in the evenings. Oh yeah, I saw an owl perfectly silhouetted against the post-sunset sky on a Yield sign. It looked like a cat. I know it wasn't a cat as I wouldn't have gotten up there and it flew away when I got close (not before getting a great photo). 5 years studying Veterinary Medicine has not gone to waste.

Start: Highway 190/FM 864. Finish: A pylon. About 10 miles east of Eldorado. 24.1 miles

Feeling good! Smelling good! Looking average! Off from the pylon of commencement (Note: Always try and finish the day on top of a hill, if one is visible. It's depressing going straight up one.) and onto Eldorado. The Golden One. The Lost City of Gold (Best cartoon ever, for those of a certain age in the UK). Famed for a John Wayne film of the same name. This Eldorado is none of these, though it does apparently confuse a lot of foreign tourists. Eldorado is however, the only town in the county and therefore the best one in the county. It is a key stopping point of the Monarch butterfly on its migration. Unlike the butterflies referred to by Nick Cave, in his song Midnight Man - “Hold the chrysalis in your palm, see it shift and change. It won't do you any harm, it's just trying to rearrange. It was born to live a day, now it flies up from your hand...” - these guys live at least a few weeks, depending on the time of year/location, but the lucky butterflies of Eldorado are the fourth generation of the year and get to go to Mexico on holiday and get to live for up to eight months! Fascinating creatures. The bulk of the kaleidoscope (YES! That's the name for a group of flutterbyes! This is my favourite fact of 2016.) had already moved on by the time we arrived in the town centre, as we were informed by Kathy, of the Eldorado Success, but there were still enough to make an impressive sight. Kathy had been busy for the last hour or so trying to get good angles with the sun for photos as I approached the city limits, for the next edition of the Success – which is a great name for a paper. Hope she got my good side. She was a mine of information on the town and our future route, informing us that we were just about to enter...nothingness. This was after the cotton fields, with a few samples taken for Nads' collection of things I like to present her with, with me dressed from top to toe in white, in an attempt to repel the sun's gaze. This was the part of Texas we were excited and afeared of in equal measure. The expanse and isolation is a double edged sword with the experience being tempered by logistical issues as we scour satellite maps for lay-bys and side roads able to accommodate Jenny on scheduled stops and also for resupply/dumping spots. We were on the road to Iraan (Gets me every time).

Start: The pylon. Finish: Sneaky back road, so secret I can't tell you, in case they come and wake us up and tell us to move. 31.25 miles

Closing Out The First Month... Days 27-29

So it turns out Willie Nelson has got a ranch in Spicewood. Should have popped round and said… “Errr… Hi Willie. I...errr...like your songs and stuff”. However, I didn't. Instead, I took advantage of the lovely, gloomy, cool weather and the promise of a finish in a town called Llano, which is Spanish for flat. I like flat. I forgave it still being hilly as I entered Llano county, as you have to start somewhere, don't you? On the way up one of the stream of never-ending undulations, I came across Charlene and Gary, a self-confessed elderly couple who were picking up litter as part of the local highway sponsorship scheme. These guys were part of the Bible Church of the Lakes, which was a pretty little church, just up ahead. Apparently their pastor is pretty unwell, so get well soon, fella, though I doubt you'll read this! As they expressed their surprise at the run, I thanked them for their efforts as litter really gets on my nerves, wherever it is. They asked if people did this in the UK. I was pretty honest and said I didn't think the problem was AS bad, but then I thought that I'd never been exposed to it in the way I have here, so I retracted that pretty sharpish and we went about our respective ways!

Despite the hills, I felt good at the final stop just before Llano and felt that we could have done more. To be honest, I wouldn't have ruled out another 15 miles, but it was getting towards 5pm and we'd agreed no more than 35 miles for the day, with an eye on self-preservation. As we got out of Jenny at a local truck stop, I heard the unmistakable sound of an umpire's whistle and thought: “Football!” Now (American) football is huge in Texas, maybe more than any other state if what I've been led to believe is true and I've seen some pretty big grandstands at small schools on the way. I headed over to Llano Junior High (Nads was NOT interested!) and paid my $4 to see both the Llano Daubers (12-13yo) and the prized Yellow Jackets play. The field was top quality astroturf, with floodlights, and even a live action commentator. Amazing stuff. Now the Daubers had a bit of a bad day against the Texans, mostly because of their number 28, who seemed as though he'd do well in the NFL at his current age. He was an absolute wrecking ball and even though their coach tried to vary it a bit, it was literally a case of give it to 28 and he will score. He did. Lots. The poor junior cheerleaders tried their best to raise the spirits of the Daubers fans, but this ship had sailed. The boot was fortunately on the other foot for the Jackets as I sat down with my hot dog and Dr Pepper behind a family group, who acclaimed the Jackets star player, Mason “Moose” Brooks, who busted through the Texans defence (Sorry America, that's how it's spelt ☺) time and time again. My comments about the prevalence of the running game led to the standard curiosities first, on my origins and soon on to why Llano and the run, which was the given answer to why I was in Llano. Of course, the real reason, is I'd heard of the mighty Jackets and made sure Llano was on my route! When advised by one of the students (Evan) to maybe check the Mason Punchers game out the next evening on my way, I replied that I was Llano for life now, which resulted in me being given my own Jackets fan shirt, by the group I was chatting to, who happened to be Mason's family! Later that evening the group tentatively knocked on the RV as Mason wanted to meet me, so we took some more photos, including ones with Mason and his sister wearing the Gary Sinise Foundation “I Just Felt Like Running” beard. I reckon that will be worth a million to the charities when Mason is MVP in the Superbowl in 10 years or so… Sting 'em Jackets!

Start: Spicewood. Finish: 5 miles short of Llano. 35.3 miles

It's such a psychological bummer when you have to drive back 5 or more miles form the overnight rest stop to the previous day's finish, to start again. I should close my eyes, but I'm afraid of missing something I didn't see first time round, so I'll just get on with it. Wearing my Jackets shirt, I passed the school and after stopping for a selfie, got into the centre of town, which is a proper old-time American town as you imagine it from films like Back to the Future and errr… Forrest Gump. So much so in fact, that I had to call Nads to meet me, rather than the first meeting point to do some filming. After a slightly confusing encounter in a local barber's where I didn't think the guy could really understand me we went to Fuel coffee shop, a not-for-profit organisation, ran by Justin, who not only allowed us to film in the shop, but got in on the act as an extra, as well as providing the best brownie I can remember eating. Made up for my lack of organisation that morning re: breakfast.

The lie that was the flatness of Llano continued beyond the city limits. I'm currently in the acceptance phase, now I'm past bargaining and depression, though if they carry on much further I might lurch back to anger. They surely won't though will they? Yikes. Denial. There wasn't going to be much in the way of nature to look at on this stretch, so it may as well be at different heights, I guess. I saw a small community of Shetland-type ponies and donkeys, a lone wandering whitetail doe heading back to the woods from a rapidly drying creek, that judging by the footprints was a popular and usually larger watercourse and some magnificent Longhorn cattle, the breed that Texas is famous for. All of this after going past the Llano Cowboy Church. I so wished it was Sunday to see the congregation. One more stark bit of wildlife was seeing a huge turkey vulture holding court on a fence post over a very recently deceased deer, whose location I had determined by following the trail of blood from the road. I was pretty distraught at this, with it seeming worse than the other roadkill which I'm almost used to, because it was so...big...and new? Strange. You had to marvel at this wily old bird eyeballing me to see if I had any interest in his breakfast though. I'd had a brownie though, so I was alright and carried on, in great form and really enjoying my running, eventually reaching the tiny settlement of Art, which had about three houses and the same number of cemeteries. That's Art for you. I didn't understand that either. Running down a huge hill is a great way to end the day and only gets better when you're debating whether to go back to “Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses” on shuffle if the next song is pants and “Pride” (Both by U2 weirdly – I've got over 400 albums by about 200 artists on my phone) comes on. “In the naaaaaaaame of lovvvvvve!!”

Another short drive into my running future took us to Mason City Park, where Nads had arranged not only for us to stay the night, but after a very kind offer from the park manager, Brenda, to be fed, with an amazing BBQ dinner, but also free box seat tickets to the Mason Punchers (Another word for cowboy, by the way) game. Friday night football in Texas, is a “thing” and there was a homecoming parade with marching bands and other shenanigans as well as the game. Nads WAS interested and despite me being an avowed Jackets fan, I figured as they were in different leagues, it was ok. We found that our seats had been taken by two of Brenda's pals and as we didn't want to evict them, tried to find a seat in the stands as I was needing a rest for my poor feet. It was packed, so we headed over to the away stand, where the smaller, but still impressive crowd for the Harper Longhorns (told you…) were. The halftime show was as impressive as the occasion, with about 4,000 fans there for a school game at the Mason Puncherdome (!). The Bon Jovi medley by the Mason band was an especially cheesy treat. Away fans are generally more fun anyway and the ladies we sat with, Julie, Deanne and Andrea were a riot, giving us a Longhorns mini-football and introducing us to Coach Will Reid - Harpers, X-C and track coach, who was rapt with the run and we devised a training exercise for his athletes after State champs to have a bit of fun with the sort of distance I'm doing. One of his athletes was super keen to have a photo as she loves FG, despite it being released probably 10 years before she was born. She identified my not by the chat, but by the cap! As regards the game, Mason showed why they regularly get to the finals, ending Harper's seven game win streak. I think, anyway, as we left after the third quarter as I was pretty beat. I didn't check, as I like to live in hope…

Start: 5 miles short of Llano. Finish: Art. 33.0 miles

Today marked the start of four days of progressive temperature increase and much less cloud, so we were keen to get going early. That snooze button hey… I woke up really tired, rummaged around the Enterprise tired, ate tired and started running tired. The first run of about 8 miles with some walking breaks thrown in as usual was a struggle, despite me wearing my Western Athletics vest, which has special powers. I met Nads at Dollar General, just after the Dr Pepper bottling plant (no free samples) and tried to revive myself with a huge bowl of porridge, honey and bananas and searched for one of the SiS gels with caffeine. Last one - best be a goodie. To be fair, as I set off again on what was to be a planned short run to stop at a place called Grit (how appropriate this would turn out to be), I started to feel pretty good and was soon having to reign my pace in a bit. I had just got to the sort of point where I'd expect to catch a glimpse of Jenny in the distance when I got a message from Nads asking if she'd passed me, as she didn't see me and was at the meeting point. After wondering if she'd gone the wrong way, it dawned on me. Denial, then furious, sweary anger. I had. How far? 5 miles. I looked at the map and there was no cross country way back. Nads came and picked me up and mentioned that I'd still done the miles, so to just start from Grit. I explained that wasn't an option. If I did that, I may as well do the whole thing on a treadmill, I have to step foot on every part of the route and 5 mile sections can't just be missed out. I was just going to have to run 5 miles extra. This is not what a generally cooped-in-the-RV Nads wanted to hear on a hot day and a bit of a disagreement, shall we say, occurred. I checked if we were on the same page just now. Nope. Unfortunately, in this case, I'm not able to reason or compromise and I'll do the same again, though hopefully I'll never go much further wrong. We're still talking, by the way – don't worry – this is just an isolated thing that we won't see eye to eye on. Ever. :D

I was now running angry. Not at Nads, I can see her point, but at my stupidity for not checking the map properly and going wrong half a mile from the start. I even wondered where the oversized load heading the “right” way was going as I ran past. This is not good for stamina levels, injuries or thermoregulation, but it's bloody effective in getting miles done (that day – we'll see about tomorrow) and I got to Grit, pledging to show it today. I stopped just for a drink and got straight back into my running, saying I'd stop at lunch time. Grrrr. What a hard case.

From leaving Llano, we'd started to see glimpses of the “big” Texas landscapes with me amassing a growing collection of photos of long straight roads disappearing into the distance and I'm glad of the fact that having done so much training on treadmills, which people say drive them crazy, I seem to be able to cope with monotony. There's still enough variety, both near and far to keep me occupied here. I hope that lasts. My major distraction is often rescuing bugs, today mostly crickets, grasshoppers and caterpillars from the road, which I hope will reap karmic rewards somewhere. I was also counting down the miles to the 800 mile mark, which was achieved after lunch. I took a couple of photos (by the way guys – check out my Facebook, Instagram and sometimes Twitter for some photos of what you're reading about, if you're not already!) of the view in front and behind and they're pretty identical! When I finally arrived at Hext, our final stop, it was in contrast to the previous days where I wanted to run and run. I was glad. Stop now. Eat. Write a massive blog post. Sleep.

Start: Art. Finish: Hext. 33.3 miles.

Total: 812.25 miles