Here they are hanging in the sunshine. The lovely weather this past week has made me wash. Wash everything and take full advantage of being able to hang em all out to dry in the sun.
So the trainers hit the wash. All the running gear went in.
Then it all got neatly folded up and put away. It didn’t go back on the old drying rack in my bedroom where it has always been kept for easy access. No, this time it was put in a drawer in the wardrobe and the trainers in there too.
I’ve decided to quit the running. I was going out 3 evenings a week and averaging 8k with Attila. It was good but hard on my feet. Actually hard on all sorts of things.
So last week I decided to call it a day, at least for a wee while. I won’t be doing the Glasgow Great Scottish Run next month and definitely not taking part in the half marathon at end of September.
I did more than I ever thought I could do on the running front. Me, who couldn’t run for the proverbial bus. I’ve taken part in three 10k charity runs during the past year, put in more mileage than I care to think about, got red in the face on a regular basis and sweated buckets.
I’ve talked while panting alongside Attila, grabbed handfulls of raspberries as we loped along. Cursed him for making me keep going when I just wanted to throw myself on to the cool grass and give up. It has been an ongoing struggle, a chore, a challenge, and also a laugh.
I know our running lane like the back of my hand. The Harry Potter tree, the zig zag chicane, the Live 4 Ever graffiti at the 5k mark, the Transformers car yard, the cows in the meadow, the birdsong. The rain, the sunshine, the cooling breeze. The changing seasons of snowdrops, daffodils, elderflower and iris. The tiny wild strawberries, raspberries and then brambles, all food on the go, there for the taking.
Feels strange seeing the space in my room where my gear always hung. Space for something new, who knows?