Saying goodbye

Disclaimer: this is not a running related post.

When you have to say goodbye to a friend, who has died far too young, it is a pretty stark reminder to live your life and spend time with those you care about.

Today I went to a friend’s funeral. A former boss and colleague who also became a friend. He’d moved away and twice in recent years I’d hoped to meet up for coffee and a chat. It didn’t happen though. When I was up there, he was inevitably down here – typical!

Luckily I did see him at some work related meetings in the last couple of years but when someone is gone, it’s those missed opportunities that stick in your throat – maybe that’s what the big lump is that makes your eyes water.

I could say so much about my friend and it would never be enough, so maybe I’ll just leave it with a reminder to always grab life by the danglies and always make those coffees happen. It has to be good coffee and also fairtrade, of course!

My friend.

Eugh, the inevitable hinky thing happened.

After the partial success that was ‘That’s what I call a shite run..’ I have mostly avoided the crushing feelings of having to poo while running and have maybe only had to walk a handful of times to be sure that a fart really was just a fart but the inevitable happened today.

I had to stop and drop.

Thankfully, it was not nearly as traumatic as I’d anticipated and I’m hoping that losing a little of the fear might also lead to fewer occurrences of ‘the urge’.

The glamorous side of running! Oh, and my apologies to the countryside for the unscheduled ‘gift’.