This morning I woke up at 5.20, partly due to a surprise hangover (James informs me I was more than a little tipsy last night but I do not recall this, despite returning home in a Mexican hat emblazoned “TACO BILL”), and partly out of excitement and anticipation. Christmas and birthdays leave me cold, but today James had agreed to go on a big run with me. I wriggled and dozed until 7.30, at which point I cautiously poked James and explained that we should run early before heat and hunger interfered with our morning, an excuse which he accepted with good grace.
Had he known we would end up running and walking around 17 kilometres before breakfast I don’t know how good-natured he would have been about it. We walked and then ran along the Yarra for a few kilometres (I’ll know better tomorrow when I can check online) until we were rudely interrupted by a barrier and a sign saying the trail was closed due to flood damage.
“Do we care?” I asked James, who replied with a trademark shrug, and so we charged on, making the first of a few questionable decisions that day. Turns out, the trail had collapsed in several places, but we had already stated that we didn’t care, so there was no choice but to keep going. It was fun! And only a tiny bit dangerous, which makes James’ eyes light up like a pinball machine.
Then the trail ended abruptly and turned into a Place Where Rich People Live. James and his trusty iPhone directed us to another trail, which went through a forest absolutely packed with flying foxes, hanging from every branch of every tree. It was quite, quite magical! We stopped several times to admire them, and I took several mediocre pictures with my phone. I really hope I get a chance to take Mummy to see them some day, somehow — you’d love it! Flying foxes are like little golden monkeys wrapped in huge bat wings… so adorable. I’m hoping for better photos from the iPhone but here’s my BlackBerry’s attempt:
Then after a while we realised the bridge James was seeing on his screen hadn’t shown up in real life. We clambered up a slope and found ourselves stranded by a highway, sweaty and confused, but eventually we found a bridge, from whence I took yet another mediocre photo of the Melbourne skyline, as viewed over the forest. I can never get over how gorgeous and exotic Australia is…
At this point I promised James it was the last picture I would take and that I would no longer stop running to dig out my phone or for any other reason. Ah, if only we’d seen this sign earlier!
We veered off the road following an extremely steep and uneven path, where I promptly broke my word and announced there was no way I would run down this hill. By the time we reached the trail at the bottom, James had twisted/sprained his knee and our running rapidly petered out. We were a long way from home, so he had to suck it up, and I cheered myself with the satisfaction of finding myself by default the more capable runner for the journey home, without having to actually demonstrate this fact.
We walked the 8 or so kilometres back to Fitzroy, then went for a delicious breakfast at Alimentari, before returning home for a shower and a nap. To further assist in the recovery from our extenuating adventures, we spent the rest of the day drinking and eating delicious unhealthy foods, as is the duty of any member of the Fitzroyalty. Such a lovely Sunday! Such a perfect boyfriend! I’m very lucky — a lot of my friends think I’m insane but I cannot think of a nicer way to spend a Sunday morning than running together on a mostly deserted, slightly collapsed nature trail, interspersed with flying foxes.