I didn’t mean to have such an aggressive rant on my blog last week as I’m not an aggressive person, and normally when I drink I’m a sleepy drunk no a fightin’ one! I now look at it like I was a lioness protecting her own rather than the “What are you lookin’ at!” chip on shoulder.
But hey ho, it’s a long time since I’ve been bother by other people’s opinions so I don’t really know why I was so defensive.
I think I’ve been feeling a bit frustrated since the Perth 24 hour, I know I have nothing to prove but I know I can do better, even a fortnight afterwards I’ve been looking for another one but apart from travelling to foreign fields it’s a no go.
I have felt a bit low over the last week, but I yesterday I bounced back, I was running my usual five mile Crombie Point, Torryburn route along the Forth shore, my hamstrings are tight, my left Achilles is giving me a bit of grief, I felt like a big fat sack o’ tatties. The sun was shining, looking over to Grangemouth, the white fluffy smoke headed straight up, no wind, not what you rate as picturesque as anywhere on the West Highland Way but I always think it has L.S. Lowry qualities. I was listening to Runrig’s Long Distance, an album I haven’t listened to in ages and just recently stuck it on my ipod. It’s a salve for a weary soul, especially Hearts of Olden Glory it brought a lump to my throat as I ran but my head was up, I felt proud of who I am and my heritage. This was not an easy run but I still felt privileged I have not forgotten how lucky I am.
I am writing this also under the influence, not quite a whole bottle of wine but I’m working on it.