In The Traps

Monday 5 August 2002. After a fraught week I found myself on a train to Leeds, with Keith on the other end of a mobile phone trying to get me to say, loudly, “I’m on the train”. I wasn’t, I was passing Wakefield at the time.

Off the train to be greeted with “I’ve torn my calf, I need to go to the physio”. Good Start. The week had passed with calls to and from Mike’s family, all of whom were insistent that we shouldn’t abandon the walk “It’s what he talked about all the time” and “it’s what he would have wanted” were frequent comments.

Our plan was amended to start a day earlier, get picked up, driven back to Leeds, travel down to the funeral on Wednesday and carry on where we left off on Thursday.

While Keith had ultrasound on his calf, I finished my careful training with several glasses of Guinness.

~ by @mmonyte on August 3, 2006.

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