Apologies: I’ve been away from the blog for a week. But as always, I have an excuse. All four of us (me, J and the houndies) went to visit my folks in North Yorkshire for the Easter long weekend – and we had such a wonderful time! And yes: the weather was so amazing, all weekend long, that we *needed* the factor 40.
Kita and J ran the Albert Park Parkrun on Saturday. It was an Orange Day – wear orange and get goodies from Lucozade! The cunning organisers were handing out orange ‘Tees Pride’ t-shirts, so there was a real sea of orange at the starting line:
As ever, Kita could *not* wait to get going:
It was a hot day, even at 9 in the morning, and she was definitely lagging a bit by the time they crossed the finish line. A bit of a lie-down in the shady, cool bit of the garden was very welcome.
Afterwards, we headed off to Whitby, where Woody met seaweed for the first time, and decided that large expanses of sand were fun to run on. (Both he and J fell asleep in the car on the way home):
And the next day… The next day we went UP onto the moors! I am not sure there are words for the beauty of the moorland scenery. People tend to call it ‘stark’, or even ‘bleak’, but to me, it is incredibly rich, detailed and vibrant.
That’s J, up on the horizon to the left. This ‘running’ malarky definitely has a real impact on general health and fitness.
Dad, in the blue, and Stu (one of my brothers), just beyond him.
The bright green area in the middle distance is bilberry (wild blueberry) vines. On the horizon, way over to the left, you can see Roseberry Topping – which is officially a mountain (and the site of much childhood torture. I hated ‘climbing Roseberry’ when I was a child!).
The route we took eventually climbs the end of the outcrop we are walking along here, and doubles back along the top of the ridge. The views are breathtaking – a suitable reward for the climb! Poor Woody is much more used to the flatlands, though, and had to be helped up some of the steeper bits. In fact, both houndies adhere to a rigorous 18-hour-per-day nap schedule when they’re at home, so they were totally worn out by all this awake-time. Can you spot Woody, in amongst my childhood soft toys?
How about now?
(In fact, the dogs slept throughout the four-hour journey home. Once we arrived back, after the obligatory pee/sniff in the garden, Woody went straight upstairs and insisted we let him into the bedroom. He slept there until dinnertime, and went straight back afterwards. We had to wake him up for the before-bed trip into the garden).