Running the Hastings Half-Marathon, Good Friday Passion in Hastings Old Town

Last blog post for this month…..Easter and still no spring weather.
Earlier in the week I had to resort to writing a Bombastic Battleaxe post on spaghetti poodles to cheer myself up.
     We have made hopeful trips to the Hastings Garden Centre a couple of times, and bought a few plants, which are currently sitting outside the back door looking miserable. Still, the scones are as good as ever – see Bombastic Battleaxe. They even had a two for the price of one offer…..lots of things are on offer – even the faithful Garden Centre kitty? Poor Garden Centre, I bet they are longing for spring.
I also feel sorry for clothes shops, full of lovely summer stuff nobody can face buying.

Battleaxe runs the Hastings half-Marathon

     Last Sunday was the Hastings Half-Marathon. Last year we sat on our doorstep in Harold Road in tee shirts in the boiling sun, watching the runners sweating past in the heat. This year, further up the hill but still near the route, we went to the end of our road wrapped up in thick coats, fleeces, hats and
gloves. Shivering, we watched the runners freezing past in their thermals, any exposed knees red with cold.
     Anyway! Here I am for the second year, taking part in the race – given I am wearing thick coat and hat, it looks a bit less authentic than last year’s picture.
     Then we walked down to town, past all the charity fun runners dressed as chickens etc., and warmed ourselves up with a big steak dinner at the Two Bulls Steakhouse. I see it is now ranked Number One local restaurant on TripAdviser.

Today is Good Friday.
     This morning, we wrapped up well yet again and went down to the Old Town to watch the Good Friday Stations of the Cross/Passion play/parade. Last year, carried away  by the spring weather, I did a blog post drawing parallels between the Easter story and the coming of Spring.
     This year, we were worried that poor Jesus might collapse with hypothermia.  He had bare legs and bare feet, but possibly had a jumper on under his bloodied sheet/garment, which, although he was supposed to cast it off as the soldiers drew lots for it, we noticed he firmly kept on, even on the cross.  Although, as last year, the event was impressive and quite moving, we felt not so personally struck by it this time – maybe because we knew what to expect, maybe the cold, and maybe because they had ‘modernised’ the script – so often a mistake, in my view. But they did have some hymn singing, including one of my favourites: ‘When I survey the wondrous cross’. I wish one could get into hymn singing without having to go to church – and even if one did go to church, I would fear finding happy-clappy rather than Hymns Ancient and Modern…

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