For my time here in Ireland I'll be running regularly in an attempt to offset the sheer mountain of potatoes I'll be consuming. Today was my first run and it was great to get out and get the blood moving. I feel a certain amount of peace while I run, and its when I feel most physically connected with my surroundings, and what spectacular surroundings I have here. The gentle running rivers and rolling hills of the Shireland (see what I did there?) make for the perfect background to look at while gasping for air. Its become apparent to me that I have quite a long road ahead of me still before I return to the physical shape I was in previous to my surgery but you have to start somewhere yes?
Quick highlights of today's run:
Nothing quite says "crazy Yankee" like passing a woman in a fuzzy hooded parka in racing spandex and a track jersey. The weather is warm here I promise!
On my way back to the cottage I was running alongside a pasture with several sheep grazing. Most of them ignored me, except for one young ram. As I approached him he turned and bolted with surprising power and speed, racing for the other end of the pen. I felt guilty, assuming that I scared the little guy. Well until he turned back at me and sauntered off towards the ewes with a subtle "baa". I haven't been disrespected as in athlete in that way since a nurse asked me if I was the kicker of the football team.
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