That is one of the classic fell running stories. You captured it well TM.
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Youth.
So quickly it's gone the days when everything was yours,
When if you wanted something your confidence would open the doors,
Out all night loving hard, living fast squeezing the marrow out of everyday,
Not thinking about the future just where's the next lay.
Now when i'm older i look back sometimes bitter,sometimes fond,
I just lived for the day never thinking that there was anything beyond,
It would be great to be able to go back for the day and give some advice,
Just to warn myself that all of the loving and living fast comes at a price.
By Matt Harmston.
Top of the morning to ya! and its the best kindo of morning, the type where i will be up a fell, albeit bedraggled, but up a fell nevertheless!....have a good one everyone!
Butterflies in stomach
the size of pterodactyls
hope they make me fly as good!!!!
:)
just got back, wot fun, poems to follow but extremely muddy....
record turn out today at simonside (116)
so nice to see deejay and mountain goatess today, i caught siight of old whippett but he was quite quickly a blur, which was a shame cos
guess which fell poet won a prize?......and hooved princess?
clarty as owt
with twinkly lights
a lung busting start
followed by gentle inclines
those people at the brink
have batteries i think!
a good time was had by all
over bog (and in my case three falls)
splattered in mud,
freckle and the flaxen haired one
exclaim "what a splendid run! "
and receive bitter and chocolates
just for fun!
ah well, who cares if it doesn't rhyme perfectly?... what a great morning, need to organise my next race quick sharp! :):D:) and lookingforward to seeing you forumties in the flesh again soon! :)
Hope you had a good run freckle :)
Calderdale Relay
leg four with forumite friends
great December fun!
Today was one of the best days of my life.
Nothing of any importance occurred -
I cut my finger on a paperknife
And marvelled at a busy hummingbird
Plucking out wet moss by a waterfall;
Broke bread with friends and shared a glass of wine;
Wrote this poem; swam; made love. That’s all.
Why should it be some days erect a shrine...
A cairn, a white stone day, in memory?
Is it, as Buddhists claim, a lack of need,
Or want? Or simple serendipity,
The perfect flowering of one small seed?
The wise will say our frames are none too pure:
How many perfect days could we endure?
Felix Dennis
Right off for a curry soon...well a girl's gotta eat after 11 miles yer know!