It’s my longest solo drive in a couple of years; I’ve dropped Tom off at St David’s for the start of his 55 mile bike ride, a training session for his RideLondon 100 charity ride to raise funds for Pancreatic Cancer UK. Now all I have to do is drive home. I still feel very anxious about driving but a couple of weeks ago I drove 45 miles by myself to collect Tom from Neyland so I know I can do it. I’m okayish, but still quite nervous… especially when the satnav lady tries to send me in an unexpected direction. I’m still wondering if I’ve done the right thing ignoring her when I notice - to my horror - that a policeman at the side of the road is pointing a speed gun at me. Even worse, it looks as if I’m just over the 30 mile speed limit. I think about turning round at the next roundabout and going back to beg for forgiveness, but manage to talk myself out of it. I’m so cross with myself I forget to be nervous so the rest of the drive is easy! I get home, ring my daughters and Tom, have a cry. Everyone does their best to make me feel better, but it’s another road block in my struggle to overcome my fear of driving.
Amber
After a very busy couple of weeks with work and family commitments, it’s high time I caught up with my dear friend and running buddy, Helen, who is slowly recovering from her horrible injury. It’s the first time I’ve contemplated getting in the car since the speed gun incident three weeks ago, but since nothing’s arrived in the post (yet) I feel reasonably confident that I’m not on a ‘wanted’ poster somewhere. I manage the journey, a three point turn and reversing into Helen’s drive - and when I see Helen’s smiling face, I’m so pleased that my fears haven’t held me back. It’s lovely to catch up and to see Helen making small but steady steps towards a full recovery.
After a very busy couple of weeks with work and family commitments, it’s high time I caught up with my dear friend and running buddy, Helen, who is slowly recovering from her horrible injury. It’s the first time I’ve contemplated getting in the car since the speed gun incident three weeks ago, but since nothing’s arrived in the post (yet) I feel reasonably confident that I’m not on a ‘wanted’ poster somewhere. I manage the journey, a three point turn and reversing into Helen’s drive - and when I see Helen’s smiling face, I’m so pleased that my fears haven’t held me back. It’s lovely to catch up and to see Helen making small but steady steps towards a full recovery.
Green
It’s been a very long wait, and poor Bee has really suffered in the meantime, but she’s finally had her operation. The difference is immediate and it’s incredibly moving to hear Bee’s singing along to songs she’s never heard before, repeating new words and breathing easily. She’s had a few ‘poorly’ days getting over the op, but a little art therapy has helped and has resulted in this stunning and uncannily accurate portrait of Nana and Grandad.
And finally…
I wrote Running Kind to encourage anyone who would like to run not to let their fears hold them back and give it a try. Yes, more sales and a bit of chart domination wouldn’t go amiss, but every time someone writes to tell me that they’ve started running, or returned to running because of my book I feel so pleased to have helped them along on their running journey. Do please keep telling me how you’re getting on. Happy running!
Comments
Oh, Mags, I cringe every time poor Archie, our postman, walks up our drive. There was a brown envelope today and I went weak at the knees, luckily it was 'only' the car tax reminder. I loved Bee's portrait, especially as she shared her creative process with a running commentary, 'First, a big red face for Grandad...' oh how I laughed until it was my turn! Thanks so much for reading Running Kind. Coffee is definitely on the agenda! xx