Petite Feet Runaway

My dad had a heart attack in July and as a consequence has not done much running since. Although to be honest, he hadn't done much running in the six months prior to July anyway. Maybe it was because he felt ill with the symptoms of an impending heart attack. Maybe he hadn't been running because he was so busy worrying about crewing for his middle daughter at the World 24 Hour Championships. Or organising her wedding. Or organising the trip to Europe that would accompany the race crewing and wedding attendance. We don't have a clue what caused the heart attack...  Anyway, he's had some spare time on his hands and wrote a wee article for the Ultra Tales e-zine about how much rubbish we carry with us when we run. Scott whipped up a wee picture depicting my father running with some of his essentials but sadly Ultra Tales didn't add this into the article. They obviously don't know how famous Scott's work is up here in Scotland. So below is his artwork. Check o

My new mother-in-law, Ann, is quite fascinated by my running adventures. Understandable really, I'm quite a fascinating creature. I thought that it would be a good idea to get her involved a bit more and so set out to find a race that was near the in-laws residence in Doncaster. Ideally, I also wanted a race at the end of September or start of October. Eventually I found the High Peak 40; a few weeks earlier than was perhaps comfortable after the Glenmore race and also about 20 miles too short for comfort too. But I was sold on the relaxed reputation it had and the chance to visit the Peak District for the first time. So I boldly entered, only to find out that Ann had a girls' day in Newcastle the same weekend. My new father-in-law, Tony, is more bewildered by my choice of sport. A day or two after the Tooting Bec 24-hour race last year, I arrived in Doncaster for a night of pampering. Unfortunately, I still wasn't looking too good 48 hours after the event and they got a