April 2013

[Sweder]

I slipped out for the gentlest of jogs this afternoon. Partly because I wanted to mull over the horrors of Boston and what that might mean for city marathons to come, partly to test my sore calf. It was good to get a few miles under my slightly flabby belt, and the leg seemed none the worse for it.

Mostly I wanted to get out into the Sussex hills to remember my mate Moyleman. Chris passed away four years ago today. Regular visitors here will know Chris was my training partner and as good a friend to me as a man could wish for. I often think of him, usually when I'm on a long run, floundering. His voice comes to me out of the inner darkness.

'Suck it up, big fella'

Despite the terrible sadness of his premature death, whenever I think of Chris I wear a big grin. I remember his ready smile, his easy way with people, his direct approach to everything and his wicked sense of humour. Tonight I'll crack open a bottle of Hopping Hare and read his diaries here. Tina, Chris's lovely lady and a good friend, shares her Mum's wise words. 'You never get over it, but you learn to live with it'. And we do that by remembering, each in our own way, on days like this.

   

Cheers, mate x