parkrun? What parkrun?

I may have given the impression in my last post that I was going to run a park run last weekend? I thought it best not to say anything, in the hope no one would notice. However Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man, MLCMM to his intimates, assumed the rôle of conscience and asked innocently how it went. It didn’t. I’d been building up slowly but found, for the past fortnight, that I had lost both the will and energy to run. I managed a mere six runs in the whole of April. See the horrid truth on my Garmin Connect profile. I felt exhausted, fit only to retreat to a Proustian cork-lined room, there to dab my temples with a scented handkerchief. 

So today, disgusted with myself, and with my ever-growing embonpoint,  I forced myself out for both a swim and a run. The run was lovely, if damp. The flora have changed completely—now there’s cow-parsley, hawthorn, nettles, in place of the blackthorn. The sea boiled in the bay below. The distances are small, but I can build.