THERE have been times when I've thought of moving away from the south coast.

They have been foolish thoughts, maybe chasing the sun abroad, or a lucrative job elsewhere.

However, I have always been snapped out of these mad thoughts by recalling some of the terrific training runs I have enjoyed.
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Last Sunday was one such run. I live in Locks Heath, just outside of Fareham, and the Solent is a 15 minute run across the fields from my home.

The first hard frost of the winter had scorched the pavements and car windscreens when I stepped outside at 7am. I was clad with bobble hat, leggings and thick top for the run.

I was in hi-tech mode, sporting my new Garmin watch (see Passing Shots, Daily Echo, November 4th for the full gory details about the watch saga) and an iPod for this long run.

I headed out towards Titchfield, and then a long run down towards the coast along Posbrook Lane, passing acres of fields, many still lined with pumpkins, and the towering chimney of Calshot Power Station in the distance.

There was a thin mist hugging the ground, the air was cold enough to tickle your face, and with every breath, a vapour trail followed.

It was quiet - apart from the dance music playing on my iPod - desolate and tranquil.

At the bottom of Posbrook Lane you hit the seafront by Titchfield Haven. Fog had descended on the milky flat waters of the Solent, as I turned right by the holiday homes which were closed for the winter, and started up the hill along the cliffs.

Normally, you can see across to Cowes and the Isle of Wight, watch the huge container ships ply their way up the narrow expanse of water. But on Sunday, you could only catch a glimpse of the water's edge.

The ground was hard and firm as I ran along the cliffs, passing the occasional jogger, and a few dog walkers. Through Solent Breezes, and across some fields, running briefly on the stony shoreline, and then along a grassy bank besides a nature reserve. A couple of hardy sea anglers were out very early hoping for a catch.

I was feeling quite good. My all-singing, all-dancing Garmin read 6.5 miles and 7min 30sec pace which was good. Half way.

I was following the Solent Way, and the path picked its way off the Solent and now followed the River Hamble where a couple of yachts were heading up river after a night's sailing.

An hour into the run, and the mist was slowly clearing as the sun began burning through.

The path followed round the the School of Navigation. I always enjoy running along the seawall here. A real test of balance since the wall is only eight or nine inches wide and crumbling. Once false step and you're in the briny!

Ahead was Warsash and a host of lobster pots lay on the path close to the Rising Sun pub, a number of guys in waterproofs headed towards the pontoon ready to sail.

I could have turned right at the Rising Sun because home was just two miles away. Instead, I pressed on and along the River Hamble. Looking across the river to Hamble itself, the village seemed sleepy and all was relatively quiet.

Huge, expensive homes, with expansive lawns line the footpath on the Warsash side of the river.

Up and over the small humped bridge which is treacherous when icy, and along to the Universal boatyard. Several boats were out of the water and on huge wooden stilts in the marina ready for repair. Some pretty flash, fast cars sat in the marina car park. There was some money about.

I was starting to get hot. The music was pushing me along, although the headphones were starting to hurt my ears. On and along the footpath to Swanwick, and there at mile 11 was the big hurdle - Sarisbury hill.

This is a pig of a slope, which hits you on two levels. A steep rise, and then a short, sharp flat run, before a longer and even steeper rise to the top. You just keep your pace steady, not looking too far ahead, trying to keep cool.

I often run this slope on a Monday night when usually the fish and chip shop is doing brisk business. "Make mine a saveloy and chips," the cry usually goes up. It is very tempting.

But once at the top of this mini-Everest, home is not far away.

The A27 levels out at the top on its way to Park Gate. Past the garage and Kams Palace, and down Hunts Pond Road for the final mile and a half to home. It is a gentle downhill finish, and 13.5 miles later the end has been reached.

I was soaked in sweat, aching from the effort, but the endorphins were kicked in quickly. The sun was just getting up too, and the day was looking good.

It was a day when it felt good to be alive. It was a day when you just loved your running. It was the perfect training run.