Enviromental Climber

Friday evening I decided to go out for a run. I took the boy Lard up to bed, we read "A Dose Of Doctor Dog" three times and then there was a request for a story "about a train crushing two old ladies who were crossing the tracks too slowly", sometimes I worry about what I've created. I instead offered a story about an old lady who helped a dog find his lost ball, Lard wasn't impressed but it bored him enough to induce sleep. So in preparation for my run I donned my skimpiest shorts and a t-shirt, set the stopwatch running and then hit the road. It was pretty cold but I figured that I'd soon warm up what with all the running and such like, oh what sort of fool am I...
The plan was to run round the park, I'd worked out a circuit of the park was just over 1k so five laps plus the short run to and from the park would end up at about 5.5k-ish. Good plan, nay great plan. Were it not for a couple of small complicating factors. I'd forgotten to allow for the fact that 8pm Summer Friday evenings parks are populated by teenagers, lots of teenagers. So I enter the park, a quick scan of my surroundings yields wall-to-wall cool teenagers lolloping along, cruising on bikes and generally looking cool and young. No worries, I'll blast past them as a streak of grey (hair and clothing) and white (skin and footwear), they'll be impressed, oh yes no doubt. And they probably were. Unfortunately I had forgotten to allow for the fact that bodies of my vintage are prone to random acts of self-sabotage, which is why a hundred metres past the cool kids I pulled up with a calf strain. So here I am at the furthest point from my house, in a park full of cool kids, hobbling along, not even warmed up, shivering, wearing shorts that leave less to the imagination than anyone would desire with a collection of youths - that I have just run past- gaining on me rapidly. They overtook me and, despite my complete humiliation, the earth failed to open up and swallow me.

Saturday we hatched a plan of a day-trip to Wales, bouldering in the pass and then ice-cream, fish and chips and culture in Llandudno. Three hours drive to get to the pass, it's raining, blowing a gale and fucking freezing. Five minutes on Jerry's Roof before a family vote (2-1) in favour of escape to a cafe. Then on to Llandudno for a cream tea (controversially served pre-jammed and creamed and lidded!) then an ice-cream for lard, then fish and chips (with a bit of sandcastle building and pier walking inbetween times). And suddenly it's half six and time to head home. Get home and have a brew, a twelve hour day and six hours driving for five minutes working one problem. Unlike Keith I'd have to say it probably isn't worth it...
I was actually impressed with the pass, if not the weather, I'd be keen to return. But next time I think I'd want more bang for my environmental buck.