Last week I decided to begin a tradition of running to my friends’ houses in Portsmouth to deliver their cards.
Bearing in mind I haven’t run properly since the Great South Run in October, I thought I’d take it at a steady pace and, even so, would probably be back home in an hour.
Eight miles later my Christmas spirit had evaporated into a desire to have fewer friends this time next year, or at least to start a campaign to get them to move closer.
But it was a fun thing to do and I will do it again next year (and I will try not to get lost in Fratton this time).
Happily, for my poor knees, wishing you a happy Christmas is a far less strenuous exercise. Thank you for reading throughout the year and have a wonderful time.