The girls enjoying a dip at the halfway point, lucky beggars! The water level at the reservoir is very low at the moment..
The delicious Bamford Edge from the dam wall.The favourite swallow field, this time at the end of our walk. I don't know where they got the energy from, we were certainly flagging by that time.
Saturday was grey, drizzly, downright rainy to be honest and cool. Nothing seems like fun on a day like that. Nonetheless, I headed out for my run with the girls undaunted by the fact that my muscles were still stiff from personal training on Thursday morning. As an aside, I don’t know what Huw did differently last week, but my glutes and inner thighs were ACHING. Sitting down or getting up out of a seated position was torment! Buoyed by this ammunition, my chimp spent a good 30 minutes working on me while I lay in bed - “you’re too sore to run” “you need to rest” “we can go for a run later” etc etc etc but I heeded her not. I eventually swung myself, gingerly, out of bed, dressed in my running gear (I’ve noticed that I’m less likely to bottle out if I’m already wearing the gear) and summoned the dogs.
I’m beginning to love my Saturday morning run now. It is getting easier to motivate myself out of the house and easier to enjoy too. I do not run fast and the route is pleasant but I certainly feel as though I’ve had a work out when I get home after 50/55 minutes. It’s a good route – across the fields so lots of stiles and gates to give me a breather and the dogs like it ‘cos they can do their doggie sniffing business unhindered by the lead. There are some decent hilly stretches but not so steep as to kill me and a nice long gentle downhill on the way home. I reckon it’s about 4.5 miles which is respectable.
Once the run was out of the way, it was chores, shopping and the usual Saturday routine. But sometimes you’re so tired you just can’t make yourself do much. It was a rare quiet weekend so in theory we should have been roaring through chores and tackling the garden. We didn’t. We were just tired and felt heavy and lethargic. We ended up snoozing for most of the afternoon and then finally dragging ourselves out for a nice evening walk culminating in a few early doors drinks with the dogs at the White Hart. So, it ended up being a good day. An uncharacteristically quiet Saturday perhaps but a good one.
With hindsight, I’m pleased we caught up on sleep and rest though ‘cos Sunday was a killer. We both played golf in the morning, separately and then met up for lunch afterwards. Then we headed out for a proper doggie walk in the afternoon. It ended up being longer than intended and warmer too. 3 hours later, the dogs were knackered, we were knackered, legs were achy but I did at least feel as though I’d taken proper advantage of the sunshine and the fresh air.
The dogs were particularly exhausted because it is swallow chasing season once again. We took them on an old walk near our former village for a change and they remembered this particular field as prime swallow territory and hared off after them. They were not disappointed and spent the next 15 minutes running their little doggie legs off, ears flapping like baby Dumbos, yipping and barking like crazed hounds from hell. They hadn’t allowed for the fact that we still had 5 miles to go and spent the next few miles panting like miniature steam engines alongside us; Minty flopping down on cool, grassy verges from time to time and looking up at me like it was all MY fault! It was so strange to have the dogs alongside us or even behind us when we’re so used to them powering on ahead. He he he Luckily, the halfway point of the walk was at a reservoir so they could have a swim and a good slurp to revive themselves. By the time we returned to the “swallow field” they were re-energised and off for another spin. They’re mental wee beasties but it’s so nice to see them running free.
And nice to spend a few hours tramping up and down a shady path with Richard, too. He was brought up near the reservoir as a child and his mum still lives there so was full of those stories which are so fascinating when you first get to know someone. You know the ones - about where he and his pals used to play as children; what it was like back in the day “it was all fields here when I were a lad” etc etc; how they used to trespass up the overflow pipe from the reservoir to stand at the bottom of the giant sink hole below the water level (which frankly sounds terrifying but like something I’d really like to do!) and where he’d pick mushrooms with his dad on early summer mornings. It’s nice hearing all that stuff, filling in the gaps.