Out of the mouths (eyes) of babes

I could truly see myself as viewed from a different standpoint last night when I collected the babysitter and prepared to hand over £12 to her in return for an hour of hard torture in the drizzle 22 miles away in Lochgilphead. Despite my jokes her pity was obvious that I should feel the need to do this (she was far too polite to even give away the thought "at your age")...I had the same thoughts myself on the 4th 400m sprint along the dark lochside at Ardrisaig where the pavement obviously doubles as a road for those uninhibited by the road edges. There were plenty of muddy tyre marks clipping and mounting the pavement in a worrying way,there was very little else to focus on apart from the sign that marked the 400m finish line, then turn and jog/stagger back. For light relief we ran back through the town, luckily the drizzle had diminished a bit by then. It must have been a harder workout than intended as once back at base I had the need to sit and contemplate the ground until my heart resumed the more usual rhythm. We like the beat..beat..beat..beat..beat better than the beat..beat..beat........beatbeat. Maybe the babysitter has a point.