Imagine the scene, since the death of my Father at the end of November 2014 my life turned on its head abruptly and found that at that time I had other priorities and turned to my family for mutual guidance and support. My thirst for running dwindled and I soon fell out of the habit running but still yearned for the chance but never quite made it to the door.
Now some of the pain has gone away and the fifth rude bastard told me that I was getting fat to my face I used it as a spur to my bloating flanks that the time was the time to start but knowing the first run was not going to be great. So two weeks ago I went to my usual track run and amazingly pulled off a 5 mile (8 km) run sounding like wheezing old dog during it was happy that I got it out of the way.
Probably in the quickest turn around in history I ran 10 km last Thursday and then 2 days later on Saturday I got up at 5.00am and drove to Bishop Stortford and ran 21 km doing course checking for a big race that day. You can see by the accompanying picture I didn't seem too tired but I have to say I loved every minute of it which underpinned my need to get out there with a map and compass, my Monkey Feet and a litre of water more often.
The Monkey is Back