Willand is good

First run 9.3 miles

Trial run exploring some footpaths around Kentisbeare. 9.3 miles.

On my right at a T junction two youngsters were approaching leading a strange animal. I turned left, then stopped to consult my map and decided to go the other way. Now passing this entourage, after exchanging pleasantries about my mistake, I saw the animal was in fact a very shaggy Shetland pony. One of the youngsters asked, in a boy's voice, whether I always ran barefoot. I assured him that I did, always, and he responded with the single word "good" - not in a snide way but as if to say "I approve". Instantly I fell in love. Not that I could see his face (they both had woolly hats on). Fell in love with what, you ask? Possibly it was the voice (I had expected a girl's). More likely it was the sentiment. After all, how does one fall in love? Is it a pretty face? I think not. Rather it is a uniting of hearts, a common but private mutual understanding, often happening in a moment of time.

I could have stopped and asked what he meant. But I missed the opportunity and then it would have looked odd to change my direction a second time. Besides, prolonging the exchange might have destroyed the magic.

Whilst running I occasionally get comments about my feet, like "Hey, mate - forgotten your shoes?" or "Fair play on you" or "Aren't your feet cold?" (and neither are my hands nor face). At home folk are used to my strange ways and thus I suppose I am labelled somewhat odd though, hopefully, harmless.

But I think in all the years that I have been running barefoot there has never been such a positive comment as that brief word. Which is why it did me so much good.