Having taken our ultra early
run today on a sunny morning, instead of the gales that had been howling most
of last week it was a double pleasure that the run went well and we were both
quite comfortable even after the 5 x 55 minute turbo training set yesterday.
That at least shows that we are both in good shape; there again is a double
meaning since we have both lost a bit of weight during the Covid lockdown
stretch. We were determined from the start not to eat our way through the house
arrest. Neither of us has any clothes left in the closet that we can’t get into
easily. Steve has lost more than I have but to show the effort we have made; in
my case I had two summer maxi dresses made a few years ago to cover the blubber
lumps. These are now being used to wear around the house because they are too
loose as besties any more; I can put them on over my head and slip them easily
down without undoing the zip fastener.
I have been meaning to
mention something that has been irking me when we go out running in the most
beautiful countryside that is a private estate but is open to walkers, mountain
bike riders and the horsey crowd. When we have such a lovely area near to us it
goes without saying that when you are taking advantage of a grand estate like
this one that you should show a little respect in return for having access to
it.
Simple things like closing
gates, goes without saying. The thing that really gets my back up is the dog
walkers who make a pretence at being responsible members of society when there
is anybody else there, picking up their doggies doos into one of the little
black bags carried for the purpose but then when the coast is clear leaving the
offensive bag with is contents on the path. It would actually be better to
leave the droppings rather than a bag
full of stinky stuff. Dog poo is, if you think about I, mainly meat and would, in
the countryside, end up feeding smaller country creatures, mice, voles and
insects. The abandoned black bag full will still be there for ages. Take your
dog poo home with you people; you don’t deserve a wonderful, faithful friend,
if you do not tend to the back end of the job. It is not the dogs fault.
Horse droppings are another
subject altogether and not in the least offensive in fact. After our run was
finished this morning we went back to the car and I took two carrier bags out
of the boot. We then retraced the last section of our route and I used one bag
to pick up some convenient horse droppings and place them in the second bag to
take home for my garden. Steve raised an eyebrow, but said not a word when on a
previous run I mentioned my intention to do this for a while, to give the
garden a bit of a tonic.
When we spot any nice fresh jobbies
that were close to the parking area, that is also a start point for some riders
there are free for the taking. This little extra task could not have been
easier this morning because there were two riders approaching us as we got to
our car after finishing running and taking a couple of photos. The gentleman
rider called across to me to ask if I still did all that triathlon, and went on
to ask what I had lined up in the future. We waited for them to pass and walked
a little way behind them until one of the horses obliged. There is nothing
nasty about picking up horse droppings after all. How fresh can you get?
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