I was never really one for American cowboy shows as a kid. Maybe the exception was 'steamin ana rollin' Casey Jones. A train thing, the best bit was when his locomotive 'The Cannonball Express' got massive wheel spin when making sharp departures for somewhere or other. Train skids...nice! I digress. I was more of a 'Here come the Double Deckers' kind of boy, and early memories of Belle & Sebastian and The White Horses - France and Yugoslavia's black and white finest.
Thankfully my tastes matured as time went on. Hectors House, Thunderbirds, Rhubarb and Custard...quality formative viewing. But all of us at some point or other would find ourselves with an ear to the ground spouting "Ke-mo Sah-bee, 6 horses, 2 bikes, 1 tractor coming this way" depicting the legendary Tonto, a far more interesting character than the Lone Ranger himself. With that, we'd hide. The tractor was real and we'd been caught before. I digress again.
Except this morning, the 'tracker' in me was reading the ground with the skills of Tonto as I ran the back way up the Bollin towards the Edge. I'm going to stick my neck out and say horses, moles and dogs, curiously none of which I saw, or other people for that matter. Perhaps they were there, but I was lost in kids TV heaven, pretending I was Tonto. Today was possibly the worse run I've had in months. A right pain in the arse, literally. So I've been 'rolling' all (such a lie, about 10 mins, max) afternoon.
It's another legacy of not stretching enough recently, but this morning it ground me a halt on many occasions. Run walk run walk run walk for almost 2 hours until I got back, a bit grumpy. The rest of the week was ok. No adventures, just running. Fun though. I've not worn my Garmin for about 3 months, which I think says a lot about where I'm at. My next competitive race is the Four Villages Half Marathon at Helsby towards the end of January. Time to turn it up...soon and start tracking my own footsteps.
