Despite this, I’ve never ventured down into the valley to explore this side of the park (it matches up with side with the lodge where I photograph swan bums). It turns out that it’s all footpaths through fields and if it hadn’t been completely frozen, it definitely would have been a route for the trail shoes. As it was, the ploughed up tracks squeaked and creaked under our feet as I tried desperately not to turn my ankle.
The one thing that I really should learn is that valley inevitably = hills. This never seems to sink into my thick skull. At the bottom of the valley we came across this lost soul who seemed to be looking wistfully towards the Tesco up the road, I hope he finds his way back to the rest of the herd.
It was a glorious day to be out – it was cold, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly. Unfortunately, with the sun behind us, we were accompanied by our shadows. Generally I can convince myself that I look ok when I run, but my shadow brings an end to these lies. My shadow gallumphs along and while I like its waist, it sits on top of a generous pair of hips and reminds me that I am not the svelte athlete in my head. Curses.