Home Thoughts Weekly

Despite my firm belief that running doesn’t have to hurt, I admit that there have been a couple of half marathons when I’ve emptied the tank to the point of feeling sick. I was forced to withdraw from my last Llanelli half marathon with a knee injury. And this year, illness - three weeks of vertigo and sinusitis, then a pulled back muscle - has thrown my training plans into disarray. So, as Tom drops me off for the return of Cardiff Half Marathon, deferred from 2020, I have one aim only; to enjoy every moment of this wonderful occasion. I’m not setting a pace, I don’t have a finish time in mind, I’d simply like to get round and soak up the wonderful atmosphere along the way. It’s a bright but very chilly morning. I walk through the castle grounds and I’m delighted to catch up with the She Runs Cardiff runners and speak to friends there. I meet my dear running buddy Helen and we head to our starting pen where we are amused to be complimented by a young man for still running at our gre

Sailing Kind, my new book, has gone out into a different world to the one that was familiar when I last posted a blog. Nothing lasts forever, I wrote then, bad and good times alike. All we can do is find joy in the small moments and make the most of every hour. That’s also the thinking behind Sailing Kind, a book that was lying becalmed in a ‘work in progress’ file until I picked up a fresh breeze and sailed the manuscript into harbour. The book’s about the adventures Tom and I - sometimes, with my daughters - had in our small wooden boat, Veryan . What surprises me is the sheer number of sea miles I’ve clocked up considering I’m horribly seasick - and I still continue to sail. Why? I feel a bit like Roy Batty delivering his ‘Tears in the Rain’ monologue at the end of Blade Runner writing this, but it’s the wonder, the beauty and - occasionally - the acute fear which being at sea in a small boat brings, the extraordinary sights and the sharp sense that life is for living.  Some of t