#SoCS ‘Fall From The Sky’ @LindaGHill
I was wearing a big bushy black beard when I fell.
From the looks of things I was down and out; but, no, I managed to resume my upright position and continue on.
The sky was the limit, and the setts of The Tower of London were the limit that way.
Almost bruised and battered, I continued on my journey – another 5 miles or so – laughing at my ordeal, and my inimitable style of falling over.
This was back in the day when I could run 26.2 miles after breakfast and finish with a flourish – before my knees began to knock, and long before they fell off altogether.
But, then, I was getting the hang of running further and further.
Every day I would run 7 to 10 miles until, by the end of the week, I was nearly in London – Ha!
Too much running is not always a good thing.
In later life my knees are not 100 per cent – or 4/4 in old money – and they often have a go at me for having a go at marathons.
I did 9 – not even into double figures – and I never won a single one of them. I never did the Skye Marathon (if there was such a thing) but I did the Land’s End Marathon In Cornfall. – see what I did there – Cornwall! It was the coldest and sparsest Marathon of the 9 – and I finished 17th out of… well, more than 17, less than 30,000.
I didn’t fall over in Cornwall* just fell in love with it – and now we live here – Yay!