Having read that you are never more than 70-miles from the nearest coastline in the UK, last Saturday I decided to try running from my London flat to the ocean.
My route planning only extended as far as confirming that I wasn’t at the furthest point from the sea. This is how far it might have been if I’d taken maps.
Suburban running doesn’t require much kit. A credit card and water bottle should cover most eventualities.
Time check London. Time to start running.
Past some lovely views…
…and some others.
Until, after more than six hours’ running, when I dreamt that I must be nearly there, this sign crushed me. 19 miles to go.
But I hobbled onwards until the sea came into sight (you have to really squint)…
…to become perhaps the first person to take a proud self-portrait in front of the ‘Welcome to Southend-on-Sea’ sign
Following the directions of a helpful local downhill, the coast came into full view and my hands raised above my head on autopilot. I’d made it.
11 hours. 50 miles. An achievement tarnished only slightly by the amusing fact that it was low tide and the sea was barely visible!
Thankfully I found a small pool for a quick saltwater plunge.
Amazed that I was still capable, I had to run for my train, where I sat shivering all the way back to London as the sun set on a long day.