This morning dawned and I wandered downstairs still in my PJs, in search of my running kit. The rain was pounding on the roof and Cecelia was attempting to make herself comfortable on the sofa with her cup of Chai.
"Gods," Said Mam coming in the living room a few minutes later, "listen to that rain. Are we still going for a run?"
"Do bears sh*t in the woods?" I asked, making Cecelia choke on her posh tea. And an hour later, thus kitted up, Mam having had her sustaining morning cuppa and Hubby-to-Be unbelievably enthusiastic at the thought of my running near the gym he goes to (this being our final run of the programme - 9 weeks didn't fly past but we did it - Mam and I decided that as a celebration we'd run along the footpath that follows the River Towy into town and back) we piled into the car and made our way to the leisure centre.
Off we set, me slightly behind Mam as I'd forgotten to turn on my phone and was waiting for it to fire up so I could start but off we both went. Dodging dog-walkers, debris from the recent flood and various mounds of horse... err...manure, past the old railway bridge, trying not to slip on the odd chicken-wire-esque metal flooring they used there, past the boating club, past the odd ornamental giant salmons that line part of the river and back round to where we started.
As tempted as I was to pitch my phone in the muddy depths of the tidal river I was running beside if Sarah insisted on talking to me every 5 minutes, I finished the run.
I am graduated