Tuesday, May 15, 2012

A minor triumph

As I was walking George when I should have been in slimming class I decided I'd do some jogging. In short bursts - 10 walking 10 jogging. Seconds that is. As long as the path was flattish. And not too muddy or uneven. And there was no-one around.  So I did.

George hung back with a bemused 'What on earth are you doing, you stupid woman?' look on his face. When I reached the top of the hill and was still panting even though I'd not jogged since the bottom I decided for once George was right: I am not made for jogging.

I am made for sitting and a'rocking and eating chocolate.

* * * * * * * *
I've mentioned 'Bob' before. He lives in the wood over the tip and we often see him when we're out. I always say 'good morning' and I consider I'm doing well if I get a grunt in return. This morning he smiled! I couldn't see his mouth, which is covered in hair but his eyes crinkled. 
I was smiling too for the rest of the walk, even when it rained on me.


Anonymous said...

What a lovely spot. Whereabouts in Swansea is this, Liz, and how to I get there?

Leslie: said...

Pretty fields! I'm not made for jogging, either. :(

Liz said...

Anonymous, who are you?

We're shaped to be women not joggers, leslie!