running, reading, nonsense.
It is a relatively small, but notably unique and remarkably challenging, rise in the Peak District, just outside the sleepy village of East Sterndale. The clouds were low, but they didn’t obscure the view so much as to make it all the more dramatic; crowning every hill top, farmhouse, and tumulus, in eerie grey wreaths.… Continue reading Alone on Parkhouse Hill
I’ve had my struggles with this running and writing lark. Recently, the running has been hampered by injury, and the writing has been...well I suppose it has also been hampered by injury, but that’s no excuse really. Simply put, I’ve not been doing it. If asked for running advice I nearly always say the same… Continue reading The rough and the smooth.
run into words 