|Fun and frolic......Munro-bagging in Glencoe|
Admittedly, when it comes to running, I've always tried to look upon it as fun and frolic, disregarding most of that serious scientific stuff that's become part and parcel of the modern movement, where every step is timed and every run fed into the computer for analysis. Regrettably, I've been drawn into much of that stuff too and quite a few running days end with me sat by a computer recording the bare bones of what I've done, then fleshing it up for a half decent blog posting.
In early years I'd a simple Seiko stopwatch; no metronome, no apps to tell me when to walk and when
|on this year's Eiger Trail run.....|
I wasn't exactly 'frolicking like a well-fed calf' in those early days, but running became the most exciting thing I'd ever done and dearly wished I'd discovered it long before my mid fifties. Ticking off Scottish Munros, jogging long, high level routes in the Cairngorms, testing our studs over the Great Lochaber Traverse, hurtling down the snow fields from Ben Nevis or running the heathery hills of home was never anything else but play. It was also excellent training for races of all lengths and types I chose to run. New PB's, course records, championship wins, creeping into national and world rankings were all complementary by-products of the wonderful game I was playing. It really was all play. And I didn't need a Garmin to gauge how much I was enjoying it.
|beach running from a wild camp in the Hebrides....|
So what to do now? Maybe another visit to my favourite Isle of Iona to bathe
|....to high tops in the Canary islands. It was all play.|