Well, it’s Sunday, I’m on the wine but tonight is no rant from a miserable moo! Although I’ve done naff all running this week, my back has been bad, muscle spasm and the tingly pain down my left leg but I managed a sair sack o’ tatties five miler yesterday round my Crombie Point, Torryburn route. Looking across to the Ochils, the sky was clear blue and the hills had a dusting of snow, beautiful, which reminded me of a solo run I had at the beginning of the year on the WHW from Bridge of Orchy down to the Crianlarich fence and back. The Monarch and his Kingdom
Along the shore I looked back towards the Pentlands but they were dark and brooding, Grangemouth had it’s Lowrysque qualities, I was listening to an old Runrig, BBC Session Live, Glasgow ’96 and The Times They Are A Changin’ stuck a chord and I don’t just mean the seasons, although I think that the thought of a hard winter has been getting me down, I’ve worn at least one layer of long sleeves all summer as it is and the memory of last year brittle cold hasn’t faded. I embrace 80’s chic and have a selection of legwarmers at the ready!
A lot of folks are planning next years races and apart from entering the WHW race which along with Pauline I have no doubt of getting in although it is a ballot, I am a perennial optimist, Pauline will get in being a previous winner and me because I done over five. Apart from that I haven’t a Scooby what I’ll be doing and that makes me feel uneasy, I like to know what’s ahead and next year won’t give me that luxury.
Yesteday Erin and I had a lazy afternoon with Mum. Demi, my nine year old niece didn’t come, neither did Pauline, both of them having a cold and with Mum having just had her first cycle of chemo, her immune system was at zero so they did the sensible but not happy thing and stayed away. Saturday has always been Grandma day, Erin and Demi dropped off, Pauline and I going off for a long run, Mum always made a big pot of soup for when we got back.
A Grandma sandwich
Yesterday when I was running I remembered something I wrote to Mum when she was still in Australia and wasn’t sure if I’d ever see her again but I would had sold my soul, pawned Pete and Erin if necessary, although we were in constant contact by phone, it was still hard to say some stuff. I sent a card “Remember you are your daughter’s mother, and when the going get tough, the tough hold their head up so they can spit the bastard in the eye!” That was the first time I’ve ever used sweary words in front of my Mum but I think it warranted it. I had looked the Grim Reaper in the face in 2005 and spat in his eye and that was what I was referring to.
Last night I trawled through my blog reading my ramblings on the run I had at the end of January and some others, I am bloody privileged and I won’t forget it. I have had a good year and it’s time I went back out on my comfort zone. A six hour dander on the West Highland Way is what I need and as soon as I can fit it in I’ll be there.