Thirteen

Today is the (not so) little fella's thirteenth birthday. Due to some nonsense that I won't go into, I only had the chance to see him this morning, so we had birthday breakfast together: fresh coffee and croissants from the bakery.

Dan had the amp for his birthday but I wanted something to give him today, so I'd also bought him a Fender t-shirt and a boxed set of Green Day albums, which he was delighted by.

I'd said to him last night that I was going to go out for a long run, this evening, heading across to Barbon Beck, which is just over ten miles there and back. Dan pointed out that as it was his thirteenth birthday, I ought to run 13 miles.

Well, it's been a while since I've run that far but I agreed it would be appropriate and that I ought to. This morning he seemed a little concerned that he'd been unfair in setting that as a target but, actually, I was up for it. 

And it was fine. Miles eight and nine were a little bit of a struggle psychologically, but I was fine in terms of fitness and, thankfully, there were no aches or pains. Two hours and four minutes, which, for me, is pretty good for what was a hilly route in places.