Jogging my memory – and my backside.

Dog guarding langoustines whilst jogger away...em jogging.

Just had a glorious week in the west of Scotland. Och aye the noo.

First holiday in a year and I can’t tell you how much I needed that. What a hoot.

6 adults, 7 kids (4 of which are teenagers and frankly hilarious) and 4 dogs (one a 7 week old puppy).

Great food.  great chat and of course….mixed weather.

But armed with silly wellies, cosy hats and thummeldoddies (fingerless gloves) there is little that can’t be done.

Other than sunbathing, picking coconuts, enjoying a rum punch at 11am – actually cancel the last one – there is no reason not to have a rum punch at 11am if you fancy one. Luckily I didn’t. But you get the gist….a good old Scottish holiday.

The shocking thing that happened. And this is a real stoater. Is I ran. Not there and back . And not away from a wild animal intent on savaging me. No I broke into beyond a walk with my pal Jackie who is as fit as a butchers dog. Last weekend I said I might give it a go I enjoyed it once in the days when …well I could be bothered…but that was a long time ago.

‘Come on then’ she said and she took me out and egged me on and wasn’t too cruel and didn’t use a stick . So day one we walked mostly and ran a little. Day 2, aching but determined we walked mostly, ran a little more.
Day 3 Whilst in the Lochcarron Shop I bought Womans Running Magazine – yes that’s me all or nothing. Having read it – well some of it – the bits with photographs – it seems my fitness is in fact nothing. So as the week progressed so did the running. And by yesterday – I ran all the way to the place we had only previously walked, along the river and up to the gate. As opposed to across the road from the car to  the shop for a packet of digestives.

So now back home the wind is whistling, the rain is pelting off the window and I look at my trainers and I think. Will I?

Well yes but not tonight…tomorrow…..for tonight brings a box of maltesers, The Voice on Iplayer and a long hot soak in a bath as the long suffering husband watches the golf………….zzzzzzzzzz.z….

Ah yes I seem to be blogging again…sometimes a blether just can’t help themselves….




Writer & broadcaster.

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