Why I Run

Several years after first donning trainers I’m finally happy to call myself a runner without giggling at the very thought. Sure, I could be faster, go farther and simply get out there more often, but I don’t feel such a fraud for trying. So, in the spirit of all the new year fitness talk out there, I thought I’d share a few of my favourite things about running.

It’s quick. You can be out of the house for under half an hour and still feel like you’ve achieved something great.

It kickstarts the day. Sitting down at my desk in the morning feels far better if I’ve already been out pounding pavements.

It’s outside. Fresh air beats the smell of stale gym sweat. The beauty of nature distracts from the exhaustion and when you’re really pooped you can stop to just soak it all in.

It’s an easy adventure. In these winter months, splashing through puddles and careering across soggy fields, you are guaranteed to return home covered in mud. So, even a short distance feels like an adventure. Sometimes I like stopping at the supermarket on my way home, just to revel in my muddiness amongst all the people in their bundled layers. What’s the fun in running if you can’t share it?!

It feels good. Humans can’t fly, but this is the next best thing.

With thanks, as always, to Tom for the photos.

Roadtripping with a Poodle

My mutt is way too much of a crazy pup to be a good #vandog (yet!) so I lived vicariously through Steinbeck’s drive across America with Charles de Chien in their purpose-built truck. Though Travels with Charley was published over forty years ago, I was struck by how relevant his musings remain. He complained about overcrowding, gridlocked traffic and mounds of rubbish (then one page later extolled the virtues of single-use frying pans!) Perhaps every age feels that they are suffering a great demise.

Steinbeck’s spare but incisive observations of people and places was an absolute delight. His description of the quiet hush of solo breakfast diners was perfect. He balances quirky musings on his dog with beautiful insights into the places he visits. I was thrilled to read his description of my own little home corner of the west coast:

I stayed two days close to the bodies of the giants, and there were no trippers, no chattering troupes with cameras. There’s a cathedral hush here. Perhaps the thick soft bark absorbs sound and creates silence. The trees rise straight up to zenith; there is no horizon. The dawn comes early and remains dawn until the sun is high. Then the green fernlike foliage so far up strains the sunlight to a green gold and distributes it in shafts or rather in stripes of light and shade.

Now, it’s probably appropriate to end this post with some summery puppy spam, right?

PS – Here is another perfectly-formed slim read.

Alphabet16

It’s that time of year when I get all overexcited about the promise of a new set of twelve months. Setting grand plans in midwinter feels weird, but my inner procrastinator enjoys writing down plans that can still be put off for a good few months yet. So, true to long-held (three year) tradition, Tom and I scribbled down some alphabetised plans for 2016, freely pinching each other’s ideas as we went.

You’ll spot that Tom’s approach to paperwork is far neater than mine (and he has better handwriting; the woes of being a teacher’s wife.) We’re both trying to make food a bigger part of our days, and improve our practical skills (Tom’s C is for chainsaw!) Meanwhile, I’ve left D blank. I don’t think we should rescue a dog for the second year running… So, all other ‘D’ ideas gratefully received! Here’s to another year of challenge and adventure.

PS – You can view last year’s alphabet list here. I’d love to hear your own ideas over on Twitter or Instagram.

The Best of the New Year

Well, we have come out the other side of Christmas and Romjul. I love this point of hibernation in the year, curling up by the fire after getting wet and muddy outside, eating plenty of stollen, pancakes, roast potatoes and such. It feels so good to be quiet and still, to slowly assemble plans for the new year. We exchanged a lot of locally-made or Etsy-sourced gifts this year, so I’m busy searching silk knitting patterns and starting new scribbles in beautiful notebooks.

For the third year, Tom and I are assembling an alphabet year, choosing for each letter something to do or remember. I’ll be adding a couple things I didn’t quite manage in 2015, like Run 20k (hello turned ankle on Christmas morning) or Wild Camp (how did that not happen?!) Both are things that I am most excited about for the new year. Tom gave me the most exciting gift: a weekend bushcraft course. I plan to full-on Grylls my weekend; make fires, build shelters and learn knife skills. No way will I be missing wild camping for a second year.

So, some repeat appearances due for Alphabet 16, with plenty of new ones, most jotted down on New Years Eve, but also some that I’ve been ruminating on for a while. I’ll share my Alphabet 16 list with you next week. Meanwhile, why not jot down your own?

A Little Weekend Read

I planned to take a photo of this book out in the forest today. But, as the dog is curled up with a poorly paw, I’ve had to settle for a coffee shop pose. Such hardships!

With a wet and windy weekend ahead of us, I wanted to share a little one-sitting read. One to read start to finish in your favourite chair, complete with fluffy blanket and hot chocolate. I’ve fallen in love with slim editions recently; perfectly proportioned, carefully crafted, saying so much with so few words.

A Whole Life is a perfect example: a story of one man’s life living in the mountains of Germany. The small but significant moments (lying next to his wife asleep, watching the snow) are given as much attention as the large (work or war).

I’m an easily distracted reader, so it was a strange treat to sit down and finish a book. I’ll be keeping an eye out for other little gems. If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them over on twitter.