Redbush Runner

I'm coming up to my 2nd 'runniversary.'  Bank Holiday weekend of 2016 was when I first laced up my trainers and went for what could loosely be described as a run.  (What trainers they were too - a cheap as chips, thin-soled, utterly inadequate pair from Primark.  It didn't take me long to realise that they weren't going to be up to the job.)  I've come a long way since then and have of course learned that you need a second mortgage to keep yourself in running shoes, not to mention all the other purchases that are required to partake in this 'free' hobby.  But I wouldn't change it for anything and today seems like a good day to reflect on the positive things running has given me. It's not an exaggeration to say running is one of the most important things in my life right now.  It's how I structure my days, my weeks, my months and my years.  Some people plan holidays months in advance; I plan parkrun tourism and races.  There's always som...

'Fake Toe Nails' - that's not something I ever thought I would be Googling.  Alas, I've discovered that bruised and battered toenails are very much a fact of life for runners, especially as you start to increase your distance.  I've had an unstable nail for weeks but the other day it came off.  It looked weird but didn't hurt.  I looked at it with a mixture of revulsion and pride.  I tried to see it as a battle scar, a badge of courage, although I can't pretend I wouldn't have preferred a glamorous, girly T-shirt with 'Half Marathon Queen' written across in glittery lettering. I had a summer wedding invite approaching, so, off to Google I went, hoping to find some miracle product designed to conceal missing nails for a special occasion.  I wasn't really expecting to find a solution, so I was quite surprised when so many options flashed up, offering me the perfect French pedicure in minutes and the promise of flip-flop happy feet.  This prob...

This weekend we managed to tick off two special items on our running wish list - Dalby Forest Parkrun and the Asda Foundation York 10K Race for All. The weekend looked in jeopardy at one point.  We set off bright and early on Friday morning with the intention of a leisurely drive over to North Yorkshire but the car had other ideas and, with spectacular timing, began to make worrying noises.  We decided it would be sensible to call at the Toyota garage en route to see if they would have a quick look at it.  Unfortunately this revealed a split exhaust so we ended up spending a long and boring morning at the pub across the road from the garage before going on perhaps the dullest walk ever around Barugh Green to kill time while waiting for the car to be repaired.  By 2 o clock the part still hadn't arrived so they sorted out a courtesy car for us and we eventually went on our way. Once on the road, our spirits picked up a bit, although the journey was not plain saili...

For months I've been dreaming about rain and I'm sure I'm not the only one.  Let's face it, the climate in Britain this summer has been crazy, a lovely novelty at first, a chance for those of us who are old enough to get lost in nostalgia, reliving the summer of 1976, but I think we all reached the point where we were fed up and wanted 'normal' British weather back.  We got sick of having to rely on noisy but feeble electric fans in our bedrooms all night long.  As one of my friends put it, it's about as effective as trying to bail out the Titanic with an empty Stork margarine tub.  (In my case, I don't even have an electric fan.  I have had to rely on a rather pathetic handheld bamboo freebie from our local Chinese takeaway.) So, I've been longing and longing for some rain,  In particular, I've been dreaming about running in it.  In my fantasies I knew how good that rain would feel.  It would be a delightful, refreshing, almost sensual experie...

Being a bit of a Tarot reading hippy at heart, I recently stumbled across a great online article at www.tinybuddha.com about self-care ideas for the soul.  It made me realise just how much my runs 'nourish' me. In addition to the physical challenges of a run, I've started setting myself the challenge of spotting at least five beautiful or interesting things along the route.  Yesterday's 10K meander along the Trans Pennine Trail from Dunford Bridge to Penistone (one of my favourite routes) yielded lots of lovely things.  Quaint animal carvings are to be found at different points on the trail - a rabbit head, an eagle, some slightly phallic-looking gnomes.  In addition, at one stage you pass by an abandoned bicycle with two upturned wellington boots sticking out of the mud, as if someone is buried under there.  There's plenty of whimsy on this run and I never get bored.  I still react with childish glee when a rabbit belts out of the bushes and crosses my p...

This month sees the return of 'Bare All for Polar Bears', a short, naked run in the grounds of Yorkshire Wildlife Park.  It's back for its fourth year. Now, each to their own and all that, but the popularity of these nude events is lost on me.  I kind of understand that naturism might be a liberating thing to do on a quite sedate level, such as strolling along a secluded tropical beach or something, or sunbathing under a palm tree, but combining it with running seems a little odd. If shedding your clothing actually helped you to improve your running, I might understand, but surely dispensing with the vital support-wear is asking for a whole load of extra discomfort. Then there's the issue of tripping over and falling.  I've had a couple of running falls.  One, I landed in a patch of stinging nettles.  On the other, I ripped open my knee and bruised my chin so badly that I looked like Conchita Wurst for several weeks.  Going head over heels is undignifie...

Being partially deaf I don't tend to hear the really high-pitched birdsong.  However, the wood pigeons with their 'coo cooo coo cu cu' can always be guaranteed to have me pushing my head under the pillow. Not this morning, however.  By 6.30 a.m. I was running round Scout Dike Reservoir, enjoying the cooler air.  It seems a long time since I ran in anything remotely resembling a breeze.  The weather forecasters are assuring us that by 10 o clock it's going to be baking, so it was a case of now or never. It was beautifully tranquil, a bit too early for the dog walkers but not for the handful of anglers who were already casting their lines.  I'm always reassured by the presence of the anglers somehow.  I wouldn't want to be running anywhere too deserted.  On I ran, past the windmills, the cattle, the geese, over wooden bridges, along the slightly undulating path, ducking the low-hanging branches, dodging the odd stinging nettle, trying not to swallow ...