Depending on where and when I run in the village, my routes have various scents – vanilla-y baking, bacon butties, garlic bread…. Today however, I was left with no uncertainty that the a-roads I plod are surrounded by countryside. Mmmmm, manure. A smelly 3.5 miles with a humorous attempt at fartlek halfway round.

Legs were a bit achey, but again I blame the previous night’s yoga. Last week we were assured of having a gentle session because we’d finished all the scary life-extending Tibetan rites. I have been going to the class long enough to be suspicious of promises like that and as soon as I spotted that our teacher had brought in her  bags of belts and blocks, I knew I was right. Yes we did do an extended breathing warm up (apparently we got up to 6 second breaths, I wouldn’t know as I wasn’t conscious) and lots of loosening up, but this was just leading up to cow face (or gomukhasana) and eagle (garudasana), which, in a forward bend, should be reminiscent of an eagle perched on a cliff. Needless to say I was more like a turkey plummeting off a wardrobe.