Poor old Toby. His paw is still red raw and he’s definitely not up for long walks.
It’s been a while since I’ve walked anywhere without him, but there was no way I could drag him out at the weekend.
I left him sunbathing in the garden under supervision while I pulled on my boots and headed off to explore the countryside. I didn’t bother with the car; armed with a map, I simply walked in the vague direction of Glamis.
The first few miles were familiar this is one of my running routes but once I’d hit the five mile mark, I started to explore new territory.
Passing crumbling dykes and quaint old farmhouses, what struck me most was the vivid yellow patchwork of fields. There’s no mistaking oilseed rape – it stinks and it seems to attract swarms of strange black flying creatures. But it certainly brightens up the landscape.
Noticing a path winding off the quiet back road into a forest, I consulted my map and found that it led to Glamis Den. I wandered down towards the river and found a network of pathways and bridges leading who knows where. I’ll be back to explore at a later date.
After a good hour and a half, I found myself in woodland on the outskirts of Charleston, a tiny hamlet across the A94 from Glamis.
The sun was blazing and my head was bursting with images of tins of chilled ginger beer, purchased from the village shop. Alas, when I reached the Glamis shop, it was closed, and had been for four hours.
Cursing, I sat down on a bench and forced down the remains of my bottle of lukewarm water and a stale slab of shortbread.
The last stretch took me past St Fergus Church and Well, near a gateway to Glamis Castle, through woodland and along a farm track before I once again crossed the main road and wandered along to Douglastown. From there, it was just under two miles back to my house.
The following day saw me in Perthshire and on another solo jaunt on the stunning and secluded Dungarthill Estate, just outside Dunkeld. Once again, I was dog-free, having left Toby with relatives.
The walk completed in about two hours with a picnic stop for crisps and sweets took me deep into the estate, up a few sweat-inducing hills and past a couple of glassy lochs. I saw deer, a red squirrel and the highlight – a huge red kite, soaring high in the sky.
Others who are doing the Yomp have very different stories to tell when it comes to training. While a colleague who’s going for gold scaled Mount Keen at the weekend and is attempting to get a couple more major walks under her belt before June 13, I know of other Yompers who have yet to begin any kind of fitness regime.
In terms of Courier teams, we’ve got three. Between us, we’re covering bronze, silver and gold. We’ve yet to thrash out how we’re all getting there and more importantly, how we’re getting back, but I’m sure it will all work out in the end.
With just over two weeks to go until the big day, excitement is most definitely building.