Dear Public Footpaths,

What a great idea you are. Many adventures I've been on have happened because of my access to public footpaths. I owe a lot to whoever came up with the scheme to create them and to the local landowners that let me stroll around on their land. A day hasn't gone by that I've not been on one of these paths.

This post includes a few shocking secrets about my life abroad so hold on tight. The first is that I'm now somewhat of a dedicated runner. I know I've mentioned my new hobby a bit before but now it's really a problem. Since I've been here in Wivey I've started my day off with a run of at least fourty-five minutes, at most sixty. Running has crept into my daily routine. I have an alarm set for 6:30, plenty of time to wake up and argue with myself over why running is stupid and I should sleep instead. Eventually I'll find myself dressed in my blue running attire and slipping on my (usually) soggy shoes. As I lace them up brown water trickles out of the shoestrings. My shoes are a bright red with a good covering of grass and mud. I think of myself as Superman. Before setting off I select some music, usually the Gorillaz, Will's playlist, or some soothing electronic music. Some may be horrified to know I'm a Zune guy. Always a trendsetter I bypassed the IPods and went with Microsoft's version. Folks are generally surprised by this exclaiming "They still make those?!" "I've never known anyone with one!" Aside from it starting with the best letter of the alphabet I like the Zune because: 1. It doesn't use ITunes 2. More storage space, less money. So, music situated, off I go down the track from the caravan. At the end I have a decision to make, am I going left or right? If I go left I'm headed up the hill, right takes me down towards the river. Either way I'll see the massive pheasant cage. This is where the birds are fed and raised from a young age. Seeing it always reminds me of Jurassic Park and the fencing used for the dinosaurs. This of course makes me think of the pheasants as little velociraptors strutting around. Thankfully they're not as clever or ferocious. Often on my runs a herd of these birds skitters along in front of me, some emitting a funny noise and flapping to freedom. At times I feel a bit like a T-Rex chasing after prey. Rawr. At the top of the hill, if I've gone left, I'll come to a gate with a field on the other side. Every now and then I'll just jog in circles around this field only accompanied by the odd pheasant, deer, or flock of gulls. The view from here across the valley is fantastic. Just watch out for the bottom left corner, it's sloppy down there.

If I'm feeling adventurous I'll jog straight through the field and make a left just past the next gate. Don't go straight or you'll end up with the sheep. Oops. Left keeps you on the public footpath headed down into Wivey. Don't forget to shut the gate. There's a sign letting you know that forgetting to do so causes more work for the farmer, and that he has enough work as it is. Following this path is tricky as it's very muddy and filled with puddles, but it's still nice. You run between hedges with herds of sheep on the other side. Eventually coming out of the fields into Wivey by the gas station. I've been told if you come down to the gas station around closing time you'll see the owner moonwalking to Michael Jackson as he cleans. He's an elderly man, and has owned the starion for many years. I'd like to see his performance one day. Once in town there are plenty of sidewalks and places to run, but I feel like I'm on display. Most often I'll make a right after leaving the caravan and go to the river. I love running along next to it, hopping over potholes and puddles in the track. Eventually I'll come to a paved road which is the start of a long hill, getting steeper and steeper towards the too. It's close to three quarters of a mile. On the other side I descend to the intersection, turn around and head back. Rarely do I see a car or other people out and about on this route. What might be most folks least favorite part, the hill, is my favorite. I feel vaguely as if I'm back in Boone, pedalling my way up a climb. Up and up and up until finally reaching the top. I love that feeling, reaching the top.

One day while heading up this hill I found my mind on the most peculiar subject, running in a race. I imagined myself catching a fellow runner on the final hill, reaching the top to cheers. Little did I know I'd find myself running in a local 5k a few days after. This past Friday, after a run, I walked down to Wivey. Walking on the footpath was nice, but I seemed to have more trouble with the puddles. How did I always avoid them while running? In town I stopped by the convenience store to grab a candy bar and sports drink. This is where I ran into Frank, a man from an earlier post and the sawmill. Frank invited me to go to Taunton with him on Saturday to take part in a 5k. I now know that it's very British, or Somerset, to understate everything. After a full English breakfast nearly did me in, I had recovered enough to run the next day. So Frank picked me up and off we went. Along the way we talked about how we both discovered how important staying in shape is. Endurance sports will always play a vital role in my life. Of course I'm a fan of the physical benefits. I sleep better, breathe easier, and eat a few extra digestives without worry of caloric content. But also the mental benefits. Exercise really is a form of therapy. It turned my life around. But, on to the 5k. Upon arrival I discovered that this is no casual group run in the park. Every Saturday close to 300 people meet in Taunton to take part in a ParkRun. These are free events, started in London, that offer a bit of competition and fun. They have barcodes printed off from the ParkRun website that they have scanned at the end of the race. Results are posted online. So there I was, running in the first running event I've ever taken part in. Along with Frank there was also Godfrey and Sam, Godfrey's kid that is really fast. With no idea how to pace myself for a 5k I just took off, passing by folks and trying to settle in. I'd find my place and try to survive while running thru puddles and mud. I didn't start my watch and had no concept of time. Upon finishing the first lap I discovered there was a second lap. Oops. And so I went on. Eventually I finished up 36th out of 240 some folks with a time of 22:41. Sam would finish 6th, under 20 minutes. It was all really something special. I'm not ready to admit that I'll make it a habit to run in events like this... but who knows.

Coincidentally that afternoon would be Craig and I's planned Skrumpy plus fish and chip night. Which is my second secret. I have been eating meat since travelling. After nearly five years of a vegetarian diet I returned to eating critters. Why? Well, for one sometimes it was hard to tell on a menu what did or didn't have meat. I've also been staying with folks, like Craig and Lis, and didn't want to impose my diet on them. And, well, I didn't want to miss out on things. Like this fish and chip night. And so, almost to celebrate, off we went with kids in tow to the fish and chip shop. Lis was out for the weekend at a spa with friends. When we returned we'd settle down in front of the television with paper packets of fried delight, vinegar, ketchup, and skrumpy. Skrumpy is a bit like alcoholic apple juice (skrumping is the act of stealing apples off trees). It's not like cider as it doesn't have the bubbles. Ours came from Sheppy's, an orchard Craig's grandpa worked at. Somerset is cider country so I couldn't miss out. As we sat there drinking, eating, and watching Watership Down I felt properly British.

Today I woke up feeling a bit like a fried fish. Skipping breakfast wasn't an issue as I was still stuffed from the previous night. I had ordered a large portion of chips and nearly finished it. Chips by the way are french fries. And crisps are chips. After knocking out some dishes and getting a fire lit I'd take a nap and then head off down to the river on a run. Attempting to sweat out some vinegar and skrumpy. I'd move a bit slower than usual but that's to be expected. Tomorrow I'll be up early to run again before splitting wood and heading to the sawmill. I might even be looking forward to it. And definitely needing it. Now I feel a bit like a cake as today Craig and Lis had friends over for tea and cake. I sat at the table eating different cakes while a parade of children swept around the room. Every person present was either about to have a kid or already had one, or two. Well, except for me. Thankfully.

Sincerely,
Zeb