Sat/Sun 2-3 May

Days 48 and 49. Things are looking up.

Restrictions are easing here just a little. This means that between 6am and 10am, or 8pm and 11pm, once a day runners and cyclists can go out within the municipality boundaries. Also walkers can go out for up to an hour (you can perhaps tell where I have my principle focus!). In any case, exercise must be taken from your house; no driving somewhere to run/walk/bike from another location. This is significant: it means that after 47 days of no running, there is no way for me to avoid hills.

It's a weird thing when you go from only being able to take the dogs for a brief walk, to what feels like so much choice. I realise that might sound odd, but really ... should we run first, or hike up the hill? Should we go first thing in the morning, or wait to enjoy the evening light? Okay, that last one is really a no-brainer. I mean, why wait?!

Anyway, the hill won the toss and Saturday saw us heading out shortly after first light to get some elevation and a view of the sea. We were surprised to see 10 other people, including several people running in pairs or groups. Walking is permitted with someone else from your household, but running and cycling is supposed to be done solo. But you know, there are enough reasons for the blood pressure to be elevated without stressing about whether other people are keeping all the rules.

We did hear that while it is permitted to walk or run on the beach (if you live in the right municipality, which we don't) it is not allowed to sit on the beach. One guy took his kids to run around there and made the mistake of sitting down to watch them play. He got slapped with a big fine by a passing cop. On the hillside, however, we thought we could risk it. There is no photo of the beautiful view because the sun was shining from that direction. Suffice to say, it did my soul good.

As I lay in bed that night, thinking about running in the morning, I wondered if I might have forgotten how. I know, sounds crazy. But the last time I went 7 weeks without running was probably in 2004 when I had a head trauma following an accident. Old habits die hard, though, and when my eyes pinged open at 7am, I pulled on the running clothes I had set out the night before and, by just after 7:15, I was out the door.

It felt so good!

We'd had a conversation the night before, as I contemplated how far it was wise to run after 7 weeks (not counting that one time I did 5km up and down the stairs in the backyard). My emotionally intelligent 18 year old suggested I run and listen to my body. Goodness, what a thought!

I actually felt great. I ran past a friend's house to say hi and their son poked his head out the window to let me know his parents were still in bed. It felt good simply to see their house, honestly. And then I ran 5km before I decided to take the turn towards home making it a 10km circuit. Seems like I did a good job of keeping fit at home, I thought ... until I got to the hill! Oouff, it's a killer and there's no way to get truly running fit except by, well, running. But hooray for the first sortie.

Tim had decided on a shorter option with the dogs. I think he had as much fun on his own route.

It just felt kind of amazing to be out and about. I felt like I was seeing the town in the way I had when we first moved here, nearly 7 years ago. I experimented with saying hi or giving a wave to the other runners I saw - as I used to when we first moved here from South Africa - but in spite of 7 weeks without seeing another runner, the culture doesn't seem to allow for spontaneous greetings between strangers. Or maybe it's my face.

In other news, I had promised myself to pick some of the oranges this weekend. So we filled up on citrus and Tim made a fresh batch of marmalade: yum.

Our church community online service is always a joy, though I do wonder what the neighbours think of the singing coming from our balcony! Today we shared a great time of sensorial prayer, which seems to be a great way to make an online call more of an embodied experience.

I'm thinking we need an alternative way for people to express their agreement with prayers offered, since when everyone is on mute saying 'Amen' is rather ineffective as a communal expression. I'm thinking we should adopt the finger snapping well known by those who frequent open mic or poetry reading events. True, the actual sound of this mini applause wouldn't be heard, but the visual effect on screen would make the message clear: Yes! Amen! Right on! You got it! Anyone with me?

[I'll be posting more about my conflicting feelings about the lessening of restrictions on my 'formal' website. In that post, I liken this experience to the way I felt when coming through a long season of 'wilderness.' If you are interested in matters of the heart, head over to www.mirandaheathcote.com.]