So we're in Wales for the weekend. It is accepted now in my family that running is something I do, and it means I could pick my shoes up and choose my time and route and go! A luxury, and I'm not even sarcastic.     I quickly discovered, when plotting a route in an unknown place, that some roads are friendlier for this than others, and definitely avoid planning running along the motorway. That meant country roads, wounding and turning over hills, valleys, hills and valleys, hills-and-valleys, through villages and along pretty things.   (Photo of pretty things once I remember how to do it).                                Uncle Google gave me 3 possible routes but even uncle Google said the routes may not be walkable at times, and to exercise caution. The other running apps gave me their options. I kind of memorised a hybrid route of all of them, that I made up from the segments I could be absolutely sure they were walking friendly. So that was a bit anxiety-induci

  Tara's phone said 18k, mine said 15k. Eh, neither here nor there! At any rate, it's the furtherest we've ever done it 1.) together, and 2.), after Covid. That wasn't the only buzz from the  workout  Where do I start! The weather was beautiful, at least when we started, fresh and sunny. During our run it also snowed and blizzarded.  The first point is that this woman is good at this. She goes and goes methodically, rhytmically. And goes, ang goes. This is excellent for me, as I lose focus at times and stop *ever so* briefly to stretch an ankle, or get lost in the peisage (some cool spaces have appeared in this neck of the woods that I hadn't noticed before), or not pay attention to the right turning of the road, or stop for a second to switch from podcast to playlist - to radio station - to audiobook - to some recordings I made 467346723 days ago - to a Ted talk - to a call to a friend. I exaggerate, but still.  None of that happened during the long run on saturday