Jogging through my past

Over the last 4 days I’ve eaten chips, crisps, vanilla slices, chocolate orange digestives, Mr. Kipling’s Exceedingly good Apple Bakewell tarts, a few pints of cider, and I’m sure many other items. My exercise schedule has also gone to pot. However, yesterday I did do a mile walk to the train station, followed by a few miles of walking around Manchester, with a mile walk back from the train station (note: I didn’t get off at the closest station, just so I could have that longer walk).

Today I did my first run since landing in the UK. I planned out my route, and promptly forgot the last bit, which is why the final version below is less than 3 miles, but hey, at least it’s something. I found myself running on streets I hadn’t visited for probably 20 years, thinking about the people that I knew that used to live in those houses. I went past Sarah Lomas’s house, Andrew Deacon’s house, the late Peter Challinor’s house, Jamie Dixon’s house, Deby Gerard’s house and so on and so forth. It’s funny, but back in those days I would never have imagined myself running for ‘fun’, maybe for a bus, but that was about it. Yet, here I was, running around the streets of Hadfield… my old stomping grounds…

I might try going for a run on Thursday when I get to Driffield, East Yorkshire - The Capital of the Wolds - The town of my birth - but I’m only there for the day, so might not get a chance. I should, however, get a chance to go running around the Welsh streets of Swansea on Saturday, which would be interesting, given that I’ve not been there for 17 years, and that was only for 2 days. So we’ll see. At least I’m not going to get bored of running the same routes on this trip.