Dreams of Running Away...

So, for my second post, I thought I'd introduce my other passion: running.

This is a piece of writing for the blog I'm working on. I'm not sure where to go from here. I'd like some feedback on how I should continue. I've put some photos in I have taken as well for my DLO (Digital Learning Object). I'm not sure what a good title would be.

(Title Needed)

                                                    Sugarloaf looking towards Lyttleton.

One for my enduring childhood memories, was running with Grandad. When Grandad retired at 65, he decided he'd like to run a half marathon, so Grandad took up running. He'd make his porridge, leave it on the stove, and potter off on his morning run. Brown sugar on cream covered porridge, and a big cup of tea from the silver teapot, was his post-run ritual. As a kid, I ran the City2Surf and Air2Square with him. Grandad wasn't fast. He always finished though.

Rapaki looking at the last climb to the top.

Grandad and Mum took us on adventures, ranging all over the Port Hills on Sunday afternoons. Dad couldn't. Rheumatoid Arthritis robbed his joints of pain free movement and he was confined to a wheelchair. So we left Grandmother and Dad behind, in charge of making the enormous, delectable afternoon teas that would await up upon our return. Grandad would carry his green, canvas frame pack clipped securely around his shoulders and hips, his hands clasped habitually behind him, and steadily stride up Rapaki, while my brother scampered ahead with my twin and I. Mum would bring up the rear with my little sister who would be complaining of sore feet and needing to sit down. That last steep climb to the white fence at the cattlestop was a killer. Once at the top, the dual views of Lyttleton Harbour and the entire Canterbury Plains spread before us. After a swig of Raro, carried up by Grandad in his pack, we'd race each other down the track chasing the Easterly, along the riverbank, back to Grandmother's. 

For many years I didn't run. A ruptured disc in my early 20's turned me into a walker, though I still climbed Rapaki and power walked the City2Surf with a wonderful friend, Jude. Runners would pass us and I'd look at her and say, 
"They're crazy!" 
I never thought I'd ever run again.

Learning Reflection:

Mt Isobel. Gale Nor'west.

This took longer than I thought it would to write because it made me think a lot about my Grandad and how much I miss him. I kept wanting to add more and more memories, but it felt too personal. I also learned I'm not very good yet at taking selfies on my phone of me running on the hills. I haven't mastered the hard of one handed button pushing, and the phone is really big to hold onto. Perhaps I need more patience and a few pointers on how to take good selfies.