An immature herring gull stood ignoring its adult companion and attempting to ignore the winds which blew in from the churning sea. The steel coloured waves crashed into the rocks and turned into a series of noisy, churning malestroms. Not a day for bird flight and not an appealing day for a coastal run.
Despite the discouraging weather I decided to proceed with my run around the area of Portrush, slightly cheered by the rainbow that appeared on the horizon far out to sea. Maybe I wouldn't get too wet!
Initially I ran around Ramore Head. There was no shelter here. The wind buffeted me. It tasted salty. Every few seconds it would ease slightly, causing me to stagger into the momentary vacuum. To my right, next the sea, two posies had been thrust into a crevice in the rocks, a sad reminder of a fisherman torn away by the greedy sea.
The West Strand was empty, although there were a few walkers striding along the promenade above the beach. They were all encased in waterproof clothing. Usually when I run past someone a few words of greeting pass between us, but not today. People walked with their heads down, intent on completing their perambulation as soon as possible. These walkers were out to complete a task, not for idle enjoyment.
Like the walkers I was anxious to complete my exertions as soon as possible. It was not a day to savour the weather. Reaching the end of the promenade I headed inland, passing under the railway line and made for the East Strand. It also was empty of people. A small flock of sandpipers chased the waves in and out. I turned just before the White Rocks and retraced my strides. I had checked the distance on my Garmin. I now took the most direct route back to my car. It was good to get out of the wind. Lunch beckoned. Eight miles completed.