Reflect.

Come and walk with me near these still waters We’ll gaze through ancient stone And touch the rough pillars of the bridge And think of times we had Under blanket skies Thick with rolling cloud When the water was cool, and deep. Way back, When time was green.     More of the same on…

The makings of a reluctant runner

How do you get from nowhere to being a half marathon smashing dickhead? A bit like this, since you ask… Age 12, cross country running on Wednesday afternoons at school…  Be sure to go to a school on top of a barren, windswept Derbyshire hill where the ‘cross country’ route actually feels like you are…

When you’ve not been out in WAY TOO LONG…

What’s the point of having children at all if you can’t run away and leave them for a spa day with your mates and a civilised night out once every eight years or so eh? Or failing that, a spa day and the cocktail equivalent of a high speed train crash in Nottingham city centre with your…

Loss.

Our grief is an ocean; a river on which we drift our whole lives through.   For the lucky, we float. Mostly. But then A minute? a month? a life submerged beneath the water throwing up gasping breaths to roar our pain into the aching, empty white January sky.   The ripples from our easy wake…

On Time…

All of history has not been leading up to this very moment. This is not the end. See? Another minute passes. The seconds do not stop. They never stop. There is never a ‘now’, always a just passed. What if we were to view time without putting ourselves at the centre of it? It’s pretty…