Well last weekend I had the strangest dream. I dreamt that we were in Seaton at 12,17pm on Saturday (the traditional start time) and that about 70 other runners were there too, dressed as French maids, Spiderman, cops and robbers, and some totally outrageous people dressed as runners! It was lovely and sunny and the tourists watched with amazement as this motley bunch lined up facing each other before setting off – half to run the route clockwise, the other half anti-clockwise.
In my dream, Martin and I ran with the clockwise group, heading along the coast to Beer where we had what else? beer at the Anchor before climbing the hill out of the village and following the coast path across to Branscombe – more bemused holiday makers – and then on to the Fountainhead where the annual beer festival was taking place. A dream come true for Martin – 33 real ales to chose from, live music and great company. It just couldn’t happen like that in real life.
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The dream became a bit vague from this point on as we remembered that we had to get home and would therefore have to rush past the last two pubs, forego the traditional dip in the sea and miss out on the fish and chips awaiting other luckier runners.
And just as the dream became less enjoyable I woke up and realised that I couldn't possibly have spent the day doing the Midsummer Dream because it is no more........................
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