More Running. Well, limping.

Whatever the muscles in my legs between the knee and the hip are, I have somehow managed 37 years without them. I thought my main problem was going to be breathing, passing out from lack of oxygen in the blood and so on. Not so, though the breathing part was not without challenges. It's all about the legs. Jeez did they hurt on Wednesday. And on Thursday. And this morning. But I could delay no longer, I knew I had to get out there, so I was up nice and early and forced myself to do it. Despite the internet sniggering, the snide comments about tights and ankles, references to aged aunts, Sloths and search parties, I dragged my poor legs out there and repeated the routine from the other day. Nothing too strenuous, ten minutes of jogging interspersed with fifteen minutes of brisk walking.

On about my second minute in, I heard Lesser Whitethroat (see - this is a bird blog) in Long Wood. I didn't hear it on the way back, about minute eight. All I could hear by that point were my lungs attempting to exit my chest. I took my bins in one hand, and used them just once, to ensure that a Cormorant was just a Cormorant. It was. They have an open bridge design, and are pretty easy to grip whilst running, though the strap and rainguard were a pain. Many joggers have a little doughnut of water, I have Swarovskis ELs.The highlight of my run was probably a coconut on the main path. Swallows, no doubt. My legs don't know quite what to think at this point. They were kind of getting better, and I have gone and shafted them again. They must hate me. I came home, excellently timed as I hit my front door at about 9m 45s, had a shower and started work. The shoes now cost only £4.75 a minute; I am living the dream.

I'm not sure what the weekend holds. A monster bird hopefully, but please God, not on Blakeney.

For all the ankle admirers out there. Please let me know if you still find the socks troubling. Also please note I do not have clown feet, it's just the perspective of a wide angle lens up close.