Mid-life crisis?

I try not to do New Year's resolutions. They never last and I always end up feeling guilty.

Since I suddenly found myself alone, however, I have been very conscious of the need to stay healthy. This was emphasised rather dramatically by a bout of stomach 'flu last Autumn; the initial crisis was over quickly, but dragging myself out of my sick bed twice a day to feed the animals and give Moose enough exercise to stop him going stir crazy was no fun at all.

I have also developed a rather unreasonable paranoia about falling downstairs and breaking a major limb as this would mean a) I couldn't do all the animal stuff and b) I wouldn't be able to drive, which would be a disaster and make me almost totally reliant on other people.

There's not a lot I can do to prevent the freak accidents, but it is within my gift to try to eat more healthily and up the exercise.

So when a friend challenged me to run the Race for Life with her in Aberystwyth, I rather rashly agreed, working on the basis that we would shame one another into training for it.

"It's only 5k," I thought. "I walk at least that distance every day with Moose".

It is a long time since these old legs have run anywhere on a regular basis, though, and I had forgotten how much harder running is than walking! Moose isn't too keen on the idea either as the faster I go, the less time he has to sniff all his favourite smells.

And I know it would amuse R a lot. He was the athlete in our house. With his wiry build he was a natural distance runner, and did several half-marathons over the years with very respectable times. It was something I happily left him to do on his own, so I can only imagine what he would say if he knew what I was attempting to do!

Bright red and sweaty isn't my favourite look, but I shall persevere, even if it means doing tomorrow's run under cover of darkness to minimise embarrassment.

Running shoes are ugly things though, aren't they?