Living a mile from the sea is great… unless you forget it’s there.
This seems a crazy thing, but it is shockingly easy to go for weeks without properly stepping your feet on the sand or rocks. Life gets in the way. Weather gets in the way. An army of surly garden gnomes get in the way. OK, maybe not that last one, but you get the idea that the things that get in the way are non-reasons and frankly, silly.
I ventured down to the Haven whilst the tide was creeping out with the goal of a stomp around on the rocks. Mission accomplished and I feel fantastic. My footwear of choice when I’m out there hopping from barnacle-covered stone to stone is trusty Chuck Taylor All Stars, and today – after all that weight I’ve dropped in recent months – I felt graceful and sure as I made my way round to the secondary beach to the left. Last year I got to the point where I could pretty much jog across the tops of the stones and today I could feel that familiarity returning (only better).
No excuses. Must get myself out on the rocks more often. I’m thinking at least a few times per week. It would be silly not to.