This Fitness Lark

 I thought you might like to know how the fitness regime is coming along.

It's not.

Well, I've sort of put it on hold.

I had a rather traumatic experience.

You see, the lovely place that I go walking is owned by the National Trust and up until quite recently the fields I wander -erm, I mean 'run' through - are just that, fields and maybe the odd daft sheep or two. And of course the hill for the cardio-vascular workout. (See, I know what I'm on about.)

If you've been following me (not literally I hope, cos I look a right plonker in my too tight 'running' vest and go faster striped trainers, oh and bright red lipstick/full make-up of course) you'll have seen the wonderful vistas I've posted on here from the vantage point of the top of the hill. (So glad it wasn't a video, you'd have heard my asthmatic wheezing and cussing at the myriad of flies that plastered themselves all over me. I'm such a pathetic Townie.)

Anyway, I digress. On this particularly beautiful day, I decided to look a little more countrified as if I knew what I was doing, so took a stick with me and binoculars ( not a good idea as I discovered you can't run with them.)

All was calm as I sauntered through the bottom field as a gentle warm -up for the ascent. Feeling rather smug with myself and seeing that I had the place to myself, I experimented with the walking stick. How the heck do people walk with them? It's longer than a ski pole but shorted than a line prop. I was so engrossed in trying to develop a rhythm and a hold on the stick I didn't see them coming.

Two enormous, beefy, testosterone-fuelled Belted Galloway cattle heading towards me at a canter. (Do cattle canter?) Now being a Townie, I hadn't a clue what to do. Run - was my first thought, but where? Their hooves were thundering the ground and their angry eyes were fixed upon me like laser - guided missiles.
It's at times like this that one is thankful for always popping to the loo before venturing out of ones front door, whether one needs it or not.

These two had fixed their position using I would imagine, a Satnav, heading in a straight line and x marks the spot. Me.
To say that I was petrified would be no exaggeration. I considered standing my ground, fully upright and making myself look bigger than them, but quickly realised that's what you do to scare off polar bears, isn't it? Or maybe bears in general? *Makes mental note to pay more attention to Attenborough programmes*
I dismissed this and considered making myself as SMALL as possible by kneeling down with my head lower than my body, when I remembered this is what you do when you're in a field when it's thundering and lightning and there's no tree to take shelter under.

I even momentarily thought about waiting till they were up close and personal and poking them with my stick like that lovely ginger-haired Adam Henson does on Countryfile.
But one glimpse of their slathering, saliva-foamed mouths jostled me into action.
Suffice to say I ran like a big girl's blouse.
I may have screamed, I'm not sure...either way, by some magical force I found myself mounting the gate and literally leaping over, no mean feat, I assure you.
I laughed self conscientiously and looked around to check no one witnessed the incident, like you do when you trip over a human hair in the street or stumble up a set of steps. Thankfully the place was bereft of two-legged animals.
The cattle came to a slow halt as they approached the gate and stood like sweating guards on either side of it, clearly marking their territory.
You won't be surprised to hear I've since crossed this walk off my list. 

It's not challenging enough.