I feel like now is the right time to write a blog post about why I am not writing about the Highland Fling, or the Highland Trail Race, or any of the other things I expected to be doing this year.

The people who are important already know, for those of you who don’t, I’m sure you appreciate that plans and priorities change. While I hold running, riding, being outside dear and close to my heart, racing isn’t life… it’s one of those nice indulgences that we can participate in when the important stuff allows us to. As it has been, Important Stuff means being close to home and the ones I love for a while.

It would be untrue for me to claim that a part of me isn’t yearning to be out there, participating (despite, at the time of writing, the Highland Trail Race entering its fourth day of bad weather and general hardship which has led to a lot of strong riders bailing). However, there is no regret, no sadness. I have a little motto that I repeat to myself at the moment. I tell it to others. I believe it, most of the time.

“I am lucky”

Every run, every ride, every sunrise, every sunset, every raindrop, every breath that is taken outside, every quickened heartbeat, every moment of clarity, every moment alone, every moment with Someone, every new experience, every view earned, every word read, every friend made, every friendship sustained, every kiss, every “goodnight”, every “good morning”, every smile, every tear, every bluebell, every corner railed, every puddle splashed through, every night spent outside, every return back Home, every crash, every mechanical, every mistake, every effortless stride, every hard-fought footstep, every blue sky, every cloud, every silver lining, every thunderstorm, every moment of calm, every week, every day, every hour, every minute.

I am lucky.