Foraging
We went out for walk, our usual walk, up our lane to where it turns to a rough track and up further to the ridge with the huge view over the Vale of Clwyd towards Snowdonia. It's a walk of about half an hour each way and I am trying to make it my run. So far I haven't yet managed to run up in one run, two or three minutes with a minute or so of walking in between is all I can manage going upwards. But yesterday I managed to run all the way down. I might have been short of breath and challenging a beetroot for colour, but I did it, and for the first time in the three weeks of trying to run, caught just a glimpse of why people might run for pleasure. There were just moments when the track disappeared smoothly beneath my feet and the wind blew cool on my hot face and the sheep looked up in mild surprise when I thought I could perhaps get to like this. Running, especially failing to run uphill, gives me the only possible reason for wishing I didn't live o...