It’s going to be cake-in-bed day tomorrow, followed by pottering about joyously for a while and the strong likelihood of more cake throughout the day.
Probably the biggest change in the last year, hardly a surprise, is that I somehow became a runner. This time a year ago I had smashed a stunning annual total of 9km by the end of March.
The other “thing” that’s new since then is not a thing but my running pal, Luna. Earlier this year I bought a GPS tracker for her collar, but the silicone case ripped after less than five outings, hope they make a Scotland edition, resilient to wet and cold.
I wish she had worn that on one of the lately more frequent dash-offs into the undergrowth on the way home. It’s been a few times now that she either decides to sprint home ahead of me, or take her time and reappear hours later, lost and found.
A friend said the other day the arrival of the dog is what’s behind my running really. After a lot of road running late last year I’ve certainly thanks to her been running through the woods and up the hills a lot more recently.
Beyond that, not having to walk, but to really run the beast at least once a day has turned the Bergmanns into a tightly scheduled bunch of runners. Or as it’s known, under the spell of the Springer Spaniel.