Easing back into gear...

The majority of our population regard running as too stressful to even contemplate, not just to knees, joints, tendons and muscles but mainly their minds.  Conversely, for us who've run for a large part of our lives and suddenly for whatever reason find ourselves grounded, stress can rear its ugly head within a matter of days.  Withdrawal symptoms flare up with a vengeance and can't be assuaged until one foot starts moving in front of the other again at something a little faster than a walk.

Even for octogenarians...

Back into gear and feeling good  (Click pictures to enlarge)

 The last three weeks have not been easy but rest and medication seem to have halted rapid weight loss and normalised bodily functions.  On Sunday, with some trepidation, I donned my trail shoes and jogged gently up the lane on the heels of my wonderful partner.

Our first excuse to stop

It was sunny with a fresh breeze that filled the air with a heady scent of meadowsweet.  A young wall-eyed foal provided our first distraction that necessitated an impromptu photo shoot before jogging happily along through a field blue with scabious.  The remnant of a passing shower felt cool and refreshing. I was easing into my stride again, feeling good.

Flowery diversion through Grassington

 It felt wonderful too to be running alongside the River Wharfe again, dodging a few rocks and exposed tree roots along the way, listening to its chattering music.

"Now on the polished stones it danced, like childhood laughing as it went" (Shelley - The Spirit of Solitude).

Running the riverbank

Eleven young goosanders swam upstream, hugging the far bank but there was no sign of any sand martins.  We feared the recently swollen river may have risen high enough to flood their nesting holes in the banking.

Procession of goosanders under the far bank

It was a happy runner that crept back into the house, all smiles, 4 miles later. I wont go so far as to say 'I'm back' but as yet I feel no ill effects so the prognosis is looking good.

Nearly home - and I'd somehow got ahead!

A little later, a dinner party with three invited friends could really have counted as a celebration.  It was a convivial gathering of cavers, climbers, walkers and runners that feasted, quaffed and bantered well into the night.  

It was a gradely do and a fitting end to a long, wonderful day.