When it’s come to walking these past months, torpid has been my leitmotif.
Injury? No. Pressing social engagements? No. Sudden new calling? Sort of.
I decided to run a marathon.
So I ran and I ran and I ran.
I ran in the dark and I ran in the light, when the sun was coming up and when the sun was going down,
when the waters were rising and when the floods had subsided. I ran through a vicious hail storm, soaked to the skin with icy water, when the rough, narrow canalside path turned to slippery mud and I ran through the strong spring sunshine which burned my nose.
I ran with my wingwoman daughter and I ran alone,
through scenes of great beauty and some not so great. I ran alongside main roads and down ways I never knew existed and I ran across every bridge I could find in Bristol (and still missed a few).And then I pinned on my number and I was away.