My last post detailed just how exhausting “lockdown” had become for me, and it felt that way. But then yesterday I watched my elderly dad teaching my children to play cricket in the park — a game he’s played for perhaps eighty years and taught for over fifty — and my mum looking after us all, again something she’s been doing for over fifty years, and I realised, this game’s all about the long-haul. There’s no room for moaning; you have to keep buggering on. So today I decided not to faceplant into my duvet and instead got up at 6 am, did a few hours’ work to catch up, took an ice cold bath (woo hoo!), and then fuelled by T Rex, Billy Bragg and Pink Floyd, ran the hill run that, 11 months ago, split my shin — followed by a LOT of stretching, another ice cold bath (scream, two in one day!), followed by warm red wine and strawberries.
Today, my shin did not split. It’s a small, weird thing to celebrate, but I’m chuffed.
Next up, cuddles and mountains, in that order.
2020 isn’t about turning 50, it’s about being halfway to 100.
Join me for the next lap?