I'm A Hard Core Runner. Really. There's a Horse That Will Vouch For Me.

I got out of bed today at 8am (on a Sunday), put on my running shoes and came back after an hour with my shoes looking like this:

 

They used to be white and they’re new!  (And yes, I do wear unusually large shoes for my size because I have freaky feet!)

Anyway... moving on. After running to my “quiet place” (it’s a little ledge overlooking the river where I’m normally on my own at that time in the morning on a Sunday) I thought I’d “jazz it up” a little and try a different route.

So.  I got lost. Soon the grass was as tall as me.  Not only that, but the nettles were blocking my path and I had even gone as far as removing my headphones to listen for signs of an escape route.  (What I was listening for, I can’t quite be sure).

Then suddenly, this humongous SNORT from my left absolutely scared the heck out of me and I started doing my Phoebe aka ‘Friends’ running impression (you’ll either get this joke or not) towards the nearest tree.  Realising I had not been mauled, and that really, the chance of there being anything remotely carnivorous in the bushes was quite rare I stepped back to see a horse shaking its mane at me, as if I had been the one to give him a shock.

I did make it back home in the end. If anyone heard laughing this morning around the water park - it was me.  There comes a point after the 6th muddy unable-to-avoid-puddle that you have to laugh.  It is a lot of fun getting muddy actually, you feel like you’re breaking protocol and that getting back home head-to-toe in mud must make you a “hard core runner”.

I’m not.  I just got lost.