The Walker With Heart

Let's get the apologies out of the way first, this blog post is in no way a criticism of anyone who likes to call themselves by these names, or indeed calls their children by these names, or indeed siblings, cousins, etc etc etc... It is the musings of me, on what some people have called me. There's an odd thing about names, they're given to you at birth and you are (in the main) stuck with them; nicknames can come and go (yes, I will always be Polo to some), but without deed poll or marriage (for half the population) we tend to be stuck with what we're given. Letters after the name we earn, or go through a lengthy nomination and selection process for others... So why do people decide I'm a " heart warrior "... I know warriors, I grew up in Aldershot and Sandhurst, I respect and admire many of them and am terrified of a few of them.  What I do know is they don't don't fight all the time, they can't they'd burn out.  If I tried to figh...

My thighs are slightly sore... I'd dodged the rookie error and made sure the "ruby" studs on the garter bit of my fishnets were facing out, rather than in... However, the hold-up section had to go under the shorts, which had two effects, my shorts wanting to slide down and mild chaffing from the "suspender" straps. All of which is nothing compared with the pain and trauma that my mate Tim and others go through when being treated for cancer, and if me looking like Walt Disney's worst nightmare helps raise a few more quid then so be it. The run was fine, well organised and had the theme of being a Winter Run aided by the occasional flurry of snow, given where I am in my training I'm even happy with the time - 74 min is a long way off my best, but as I overheated going up hills and got cold on anything where the wind cut through I'm chuffed, as well as chaffed. I seemed to attract some attention - small children did recognise me as Snow Wh...

Mindful running is that beautiful moment of connection between body, mind and environment... You breathe, rotate your feet and absorb the outdoors in a flowing experience which is the closest I've ever had to a religious experience (and I'm an aggressive atheist). You seem to just be one, gliding through time and space; your watch is forgotten, your target pace is forgotten, your body tells you what's right and that's what it does. Sometimes this feeling lasts an entire run, sometimes it's fleeting like sunshine on a cloudy day... And, for me at least, its as rare as hens teeth. Thursday was the other extreme, an as valuable extreme for other reasons... The sun set and I was still at my desk, a bad day of dealing with idiots and nincompoops, playing political games I wish others had grown out of, and generally being a grump. The time came, the laptop went off and almost on cue the first rain of the day hit the windows.  The kit went on, and I went out. ...