My dad ran the 30th seabank marathon on Sunday. It's a particularly tough one, as the terrain is extremely rough, comprising as it does of long grass, stiles every so often, mud, sand and lumpy bumpy stuff (I don't know the technical term for those). Originally a sea defence built by the romans, it is slightly longer than usual marathons. This year it started in Skegness and ended in Boston (they switch the start/end every year), and I went with Wibs and Bonny along to watch - we caught him in Wrangle (Isn't that a great name for a village?) which is approximately half way, where he changed his trainers, had a banana and a swig of water. We then drove on to Boston (after a spot of lunch at the garden centre and a wee bit of retail therapy at TKMaxx) and waited at the finish line for him. Bonny couldn't wait to get to him, nipped under the barrier and ran the last few yards with him to a big cheer and an aw from the crowd. Look at my dad smile - I think it's a huge achievement not least because he has never run a marathon before - oh, and he's seventy.
Hats off to you dad.
3 comments:
He's 70? Blimey I hope I look that good at 70.
Good for him and well done. It just goes to show that you're never too old!
Nags - it's terrible though when we're out together and people think he's my husband. I like to think it's because he's so young, rather than me looking raddled. Perhaps a bit of both.
Flighty - he's not come down yet!!
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