Taking up the writing challenge

This morning I read a tweet that spoke straight to my soul. Simple helpful advice on writing. It said this:

“I’m going on the record as still believing in blogging, if for no other reason than improving your writing. Forget platform; log some hours” Sharon Hodde Miller

Which is kind of what I’d been thinking about last night when I made myself sit down and write. I really want to write more but I am pretty lazy. I like the dream rather than the reality. The reality is that it is good to log the hours of writing, blogging has always made me try and write better. Honestly, right now, I don’t want a platform. The glare of social media scares me but I do want to hone this craft. Blogging is a good thing. So here we go again, another one of my annual I realise writing is something I need to do and this space is a good place to do it in.

So here’s my offering today, tales of my run this morning. Brought to you with the backdrop of Harry Styles new album.

Wednesday morning.


From the track I run down. Sadly the sky today was grey.

I slip my feet into running shoes, tie up the laces, stretch out my calf muscles and open the back door. Today is the day of my long run. It’s Wednesday, the boys are out at nursery, I have no worries about being quick and back home before they overwhelm the husbandface with noise and shouts of mine, mine, mine. I walk up the steps, click the button marked run on my fitbit, check the phone and once up out on the path I hit start on the mapmyrun app. The first kilometre is hard going. Straight away the pavement goes up and I try and find my running pace. I like that the first part of the run is up hill, it gives my lungs space to hurt and then find their rhythm again. It seems to help with the rest of the hills. I pause in my thoughts and turn to my childhood holidays where mountains played an integral part. Maybe I think exercise should always start with up because it is deeply ingrained in the fibre of my being. I miss mountains. I miss mountains. Anyway, focus on what is in front of me, not what I can’t have.

Up and up I go, the road gently leading me up and up to the top of the bowl of green we live on. I push forward and breathe with relief as my feet find the dirt track which curls around to the edge of Brighton and beyond. Undulating up and down over 2k there and 2k back again. I run on, my thoughts wandering all over the place, I stare at the lush crazy different shades of green all around and marvel at the changes that have occurred since the winter. My legs feel good, my arms move up and down, up and down, my lungs protest at the muggy air, breathing deep feels hard but I move on. Down the hill and past the turn off if I was going to do a 3k route. Up the hill again and past the cow fields to the end of the track, hitting the lamppost at the end junction I turn around and jog back down the hill. Here I know it will get harder. My feet move me past the turn off again and back up the hill. I hit 4k and know it is a hard slog up this hill. I stare at the ground and think of metaphors for life. Just keep going this next step, don’t look at the vast hill in front of me. Keep going. Keep going. This is all you have. This next step. One Direction burst into my ears and I move my arms to the rhythm of ‘Drag me Down’. It seems to help. I breathe deep and deeper and hit the brow feeling glad as my legs continue to dance along. Past some dogs, thankfully on leads, and around the corner to the last stretch. Beyond the 5k mark.

I wonder how I’ll manage to do that all over again, as I have to in the 10k I will run at the beginning of July. I push the thought to the back of my mind and remember that running events always feel different. Lots of bodies together running makes it easier to keep going. There’s another metaphor there somewhere but I’m too lazy to unpack it right now. I breathe. I run. I still find this road strange having run it in the dark so often this past winter. Now the woods are less creepy and I can see the undulating pavement easier. The house with all the junk outside it still makes me run a little faster though. Some kind of adrenaline rush courses through my body, I feel good, I feel so good. Ed Sheeran in my ears helps me pick up the pace and my legs still feel like they could do more. Time for the last bit down the steep hill and around the corner to home.

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