This morning I went for my longest run for ages (since 6th October to be precise) – an 11.4 mile loop down to and then along Plymouth’s waterfront before returning home via Devonport and Blockhouse Parks. It was a cold, crisp morning, only one or two degrees above freezing but I wrapped up well and the sun was out so I ended up feeling plenty warm enough. It was a good run. I was a bit worried that my left glute, which has been giving me a bit of jip for quite a while now would play up, what with the increased distance from most of my recent runs, but it was basically fine – a little sore but not to the extent that it held me up.
As I started on my way back from the waterfront, running up through Devonport towards the park I was passed by a man coming the other way on a mobility scooter. He was probably not too dissimilar in age to me, huge and clearly not at all fit, healthy or mobile. The thought that ran through my head as I ran along was how thankful I was that I have been able to run for the last (almost) five years and have a body that is now fit and strong and capable of propelling me along under my own steam for quite large distances and at a reasonably respectable pace (I guess that I could probably run further than a mobility scooter on a single charge and also faster, at least over a short distance). So this post is just to acknowledge this gratitude and to count my blessings in this respect.