This Weekend.

I had this weekend completely to myself, as Daniel has gone to Ireland for a few days. I haven't had a weekend to myself in a long while, and have been looking forward to some solitude for some time.

The weekend started with a fantastic run in the Saturday morning freshness. I was slightly nervous after being ill last week, and did have a 'moment' where I almost lost my head, stomach and legs, but a few hundred yards later and all was well again. I got slightly carried away, and the short tapering run that I had planned in preparation for next week's half marathon became an 8-mile lung-buster. Amazing all the same, and finished off with a peach and treacle smoothie as a reward!

That afternoon I met a friend in Leeds for some shopping. The city was crowded and so vibrant, with music playing on every street corner, craft stalls and foot carts. We were carried along in the crowds, which was exhausting, and a new pair of Dr Martens and a new dress later we decided it was time for a drink. For me, Starbucks is one of those secret pleasures: I hate the place as a standard, but tempt me in with a Chai Tea Latte and I'm a big hypocrite with a frothy top lip! We drank and chatted for ages, as streams of people hurried in and out of the shop. Coffee shops are one of the few places where I find that time can really stand still; I'd happily while away half a weekend in a decent coffee shop, given the chance!

I spent my lone evening on the couch, with noodle soup and my favourite film in the world. Top that off with a peanut butter hot chocolate and I was swooning in a sleepy stupor.

Sunday I had allocated as my designated solitary day. I made pancakes for breakfast, and sat for ages reading, munching, sipping tea.

I then got dressed and set out into the day, with no more than my walking boots, camera, and enough change for a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. I knew I wanted to walk, but I had no idea where to, so I climbed up Baildon Moor to the top of Hope Hill (the highest point in the area), and sat a while observing the landscape. It was so good to feel the wind blustering through my jumper while the sun warmed my face; not the crisp autumn day I had hoped for, but still a weather to be ingested as thoroughly as possible. I picked a direction and a vague path, and headed out into the unknown, down the moor and then upwards towards Ilkley. After a couple of hours the clouds started to thicken and the world seemed to turn very dim. Having lost an obvious footpath, I decided to head back for some lunch - I had been walking for over three hours.

On Hope Hill

Walking was such therapy, especially as the weather started to turn. I wrapped my coat around me and strode, almost angrily, over the rocky terrain, through squeeze styles and over step stiles. I let my mind melt into the fresh air, letting go of the week's grievances, and the sadness still breaks me in two when I leave it hidden for too long. I arrived home fresh and blustered, legs aching and stomach growling, sinuses and chest almost sore from so much fresh air.

It's been a quiet, lilting weekend. Being alone takes some of the structure out of the day, which in some ways is good, but bad in others. It's so true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I love having the chance to cradle myself in lovesickness every now and then; I thrived on it when I was a teenager, so the odd dose here and there as an adult is something to enjoy!