Since 17th January I have been taking part in an event from Big Team Challenge called the “WellMeWalk”. After active encouragement from the company to shake off the January blues and the extra weight piled on over Christmas, 36 teams have been formed. We are tasked with covering the length of the Great Wall of China.
In order to contribute to the cause, I have been running at lunchtime, diligently counting the steps on my phone and logging my achievements on the event website at the end of each evening.
Running in single degree temperatures from West Haddon towards Long Buckby and then back again has been cold, repetitive and dull, but not without some moments of wonder.
On Tuesday this week a Hercules C-130 flew over my route at such a low level that the pilot and I could have waved to each other. The aircraft was impressive, noisy and going slowly enough to defy gravity. As it thundered overhead, the dark grey bird was huge, and frankly awe inspiring.
And one bird leads to me another.
For the last week or so, I have regularly been accompanied on part of my journey by a pheasant. Honestly, there’s this bit of woodland where this male pheasant was hanging out and, when I ran by, it would run alongside me (only separated by about six feet). The first time was surprising, but then I began to see the same pheasant in the same place every day.
I actually started to keep an eye out for the bird and even started calling it. After some noise from the undergrowth, out would pop Mr Pheasant and he’d run with me again.
As a digression, I normally hate pheasants because they are stupid and unpredictable, and when you ride a motorcycle, they are a menace and more dangerous than you might think. Only a few weeks ago one of my motorcycling buddies had a pheasant fly into his crash helmet and he was lucky to stay on his bike. His helmet was wrecked in the incident.
I appreciate that projecting any kind of human thought process on to a bird with less intelligence than my keyboard is silly … but it was like Mr. P. was my running buddy. Most probably he was just trying to run me off his patch, but he was good, if bizarre, company.
Over dinner the other night, I shared my running story with misses B., miss B. and the younger mister B. It’s fair to state that there was much eye rolling and suggestion that I was mad and ‘so embarrassing’. But I didn’t care and yesterday Mr. P. and I ran together again.
In order to contribute to the cause, I have been running at lunchtime, diligently counting the steps on my phone and logging my achievements on the event website at the end of each evening.
Running in single degree temperatures from West Haddon towards Long Buckby and then back again has been cold, repetitive and dull, but not without some moments of wonder.
On Tuesday this week a Hercules C-130 flew over my route at such a low level that the pilot and I could have waved to each other. The aircraft was impressive, noisy and going slowly enough to defy gravity. As it thundered overhead, the dark grey bird was huge, and frankly awe inspiring.
And one bird leads to me another.
For the last week or so, I have regularly been accompanied on part of my journey by a pheasant. Honestly, there’s this bit of woodland where this male pheasant was hanging out and, when I ran by, it would run alongside me (only separated by about six feet). The first time was surprising, but then I began to see the same pheasant in the same place every day.
I actually started to keep an eye out for the bird and even started calling it. After some noise from the undergrowth, out would pop Mr Pheasant and he’d run with me again.
As a digression, I normally hate pheasants because they are stupid and unpredictable, and when you ride a motorcycle, they are a menace and more dangerous than you might think. Only a few weeks ago one of my motorcycling buddies had a pheasant fly into his crash helmet and he was lucky to stay on his bike. His helmet was wrecked in the incident.
I appreciate that projecting any kind of human thought process on to a bird with less intelligence than my keyboard is silly … but it was like Mr. P. was my running buddy. Most probably he was just trying to run me off his patch, but he was good, if bizarre, company.
Over dinner the other night, I shared my running story with misses B., miss B. and the younger mister B. It’s fair to state that there was much eye rolling and suggestion that I was mad and ‘so embarrassing’. But I didn’t care and yesterday Mr. P. and I ran together again.
On my run today though, Mr. P. didn’t come when called. And then to my horror, I found a mangled body at the side of the road.
Now admittedly, one pheasant looks a lot like another. So, it might not be my running pal … but the body was right where I always see Mr. P.
When I called today, just in case it wasn’t him, no pheasant appeared. And that was rather sad.
A bit like me according to my kids.
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Now admittedly, one pheasant looks a lot like another. So, it might not be my running pal … but the body was right where I always see Mr. P.
When I called today, just in case it wasn’t him, no pheasant appeared. And that was rather sad.
A bit like me according to my kids.
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