Sand Dunes and Sillyness

Sometimes its really satisfying to go running and pretend you're an aeroplane.
I don't mind admitting that.
It's the child inside me that needs to escape.
If you ever run with me on the hill it's something I may mention, or cajole you into doing.
It's fun.
And that's what getting out on the hill is all about to me.

Over Easter I was in Wales and could see sand dunes on the coast about 6km from the cottage we stay at. Even at that distance they look big. Up close they're massive. I've run in sand dunes before but these were by far the biggest I've seen in the UK.

Me and Tim headed down to the beach early, getting there before the families would be down to build sand castles and break the peace of having the beach to yourself. Parts of the beach were comparable in softness to the terrain in the Peak District, but other bits were so soft it made running much harder. What I liked was being able to see our footprints in the sand. My forefoot running technique has really improved over the past four months and stopping to observe footprints made it evident I was sustaining the technique well. My calves have obviously developed good strength with all the barefoot running and calf strengthening I've been doing.

View of the sand dunes from the cottage