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forever-rogue · 3 years

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Congratss. You are an amazing writer. What do you think about 71,76,248 from the prompt list 1?. Maybe a fight with Din because he’s being a dumbass and then he begs for pardon. Thank you 🌞

71. “I am not losing you again!” & 76. “I can’t… I can’t lose you.” & 248. “Please, don’t leave.”

Hmm...angst? Angst!

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You scrambled about the room as you gathered your few belongings, hastily stuffing them into a bag without care. It didn’t matter in the long run - a few wrinkles weren’t going to be the make or break for you. The fact that your heart felt like it was broken beyond repair was a different story. Pathetic sobs threatened to rock your whole body as tears streamed down your face, dropping onto your tunic and the metal floor of the ship. You wanted to stay...but Maker you just...couldn’t. You’d thought this life was for you, but now, after all that had happened, you realized that it wasn’t for you atl all. There was no way you could keep going on like this.

You couldn’t fathom a whole life with nothing but being on the run, constantly watching your back and jumping from place to place. Things would be calmer now, you knew that, since Grogu was no longer with the two of you, but off with the Jedi that had responded to his call. It had broken your heart to have him go, to be without the little green bean who you had come to call your son, but you knew it was the right thing to do. It had always been the end game. It was painful and hurt, but you knew that eventually that pain would dull, knowing you’d see him again, and he would always be part of your family. You’d be reunited with him one day.

But it still didn’t change the fact that your life wasn’t going to calm down in the slightest. Din Djarin, your husband - and accidental ruler of Mandalore - was a good man, a man with a heart of gold that truly only wanted the best for others. But this...it just never seemed to end. After what seemed like a lifetime of go, go, go, you were ready for some peace, some silence, and a sense of tranquility. He had promised you this; promised that soon you would settle down and start a real home, a family, everything you had wanted. Because he wanted all those things too. Or so he’d claimed.

Things had never changed; and now you weren’t sure if they ever would. Would he want to be the ruler of a once great society? Would he want to build everything back up and have his fellow Mandalorians come out of hiding? And what about you? Would you be his reluctant Queen? You hated how you felt about the whole situation; hated that you didn’t want him to assume more responsibility, hated that you wanted to drag him away from it, hated that you wanted something so different from him.

You’d always made your intentions clear, that you wanted this whole life of bounty hunting and people saving to come to an end. And he had promised. He’d promised you. He always promised. Half of you was tempted to drag him away and force him into the life you wanted...but you could never do that either. It wouldn’t be fair for you to force him to do anything he didn’t want to. Just like it wouldn’t be fair for him to expect the same of you; and you’d never once held back your desires and wants.

“Cyare,” Din stood in the doorway, the black T of his visor focused on you as he watched you intently, knowing exactly what you were doing, “stop. Please. Let’s talk about this…”

“Din,” you turned to face, your face pulled into a deep look of sadness that broke his heart, “I have to go. I-I-I can’t do this anymore. I am not cut out for this life.”

“Things will be different now...I know it’s hard with...him gone,” his own voice cracked as he stepped closer to you, watching as you flinched out of his way. If he knew it would make you stay, he would have dropped to his knees and begged you, “we can have the life we always wanted.”

“When Din?” you asked as you stuffed the remaining bit of clothing into the rucksack, “when you’re done playing Mand’alor? When someone’s bested you in combat and taken the title? When someone kills you?”

“Nothing’s-”

“I can’t lose you again,” you didn’t even bother to try and hide the fact that you were ready to bawl as you looked at him with trembling lips, “I’ve done it so many times, and I’m sorry if it’s selfish of me, but I want you. Not The Mandalorian, not Mando, not the Mand’alor - you. Din Djarin...my riduur. But I can’t have that, it seems. Every time I think this is over, there’s something else. And I know your heart is pure and that you are a good - the best - man, but I don’t want a piece of you. I want all of you for once. Without anything else, no responsibilities, nothing. Just you.”

“I know things have been hard,” he sighed as he tried to reach for you, tried to gently touch your face but you just shook your head and pulled away, “I swear it will be different now. Calm, just us…”

“I know you want to mean it, Din,” you almost whimpered at him, “I know you do. But I know it’s not true; I’ve come to realize we’re very different people with different wants and needs. I don’t...I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. I want to have a stable, safe, loving home, with kids, and just...us. It was always supposed to be like that Din. You always promised. Somewhere along the line we changed and we want different things. And that’s okay, but this life isn’t for me anymore.”

“I do want those things…” he reached for the beskar helmet adorning his head and pulled it off before setting it down on the floor with a loud clang. As soon as you met those soft brown eyes that you had fallen in love with so long ago, you could see that he was crying too. You didn’t want to do this; kriff you really didn’t want to. But if you stayed and committed to this life forever, you would never be truly happy, “I can’t...I can’t lose you. You are everything to me...you and...Grogu.”

“I know you love me, Din,” you promised as you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole so this never had to happen, “I know you love Grogu. I know, trust me. Because I love you more than you will ever know. But I can’t keep doing this...nor can I ask you to stop. We’re just...we’re at different points right now.”

“I-I’ll come with you,” he stammered as he took a step closer. This time you didn’t flinch but instead you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him against your body as tightly as possible. His armor created a metallic barrier; a barrier just like the one that appeared between the two of you, “please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his ear before pressing a flurry of kisses to the side of his head. He took in a shaky breath before burying his head into your shoulder, “I’m sorry, Din. I need to go. If I stay, things will never get better. And I don’t ever want to resent you or despise you because we’re at different points in our lives. This...this is for the best. I know it hurts now, but it’s for the best. We both know that.”

“I can’t do this without you…”

“Of course you can, Din Djarin,” you pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “you can do anything. And I know you have so much good left to do. And you will do it.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled in you for a slow kiss, one that conveyed everything he wanted to say and you understood, “I will always love you. Only you.”

“And I will always love you,” you promised as you pressed your forehead against his, “this won’t be forever, I promise it. I will always wait for you. I have to go - for now - but wherever I go I know you will find me. When you’re ready.”

“I will always find you,” he agreed as he closed his eyes and breathed you in, “no matter when or where. I will find you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you smiled through your tears as you wiped away his own, “when you’re ready, I’ll be there. This isn’t goodbye, I promise. Our story isn’t finished.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Din,” you slowly pulled back and looked at him with watery eyes, your heart breaking, but the fact that you would one day be reunited serving as a cushion, “I’ll see you again, when you’re ready.”

“I will give you everything, I swear it.”

“You already have, my love. There’s one more thing I want - you. When you’re ready, I’ll be ready.”

“Goodbye…”

“See you later,” you reminded him with one last kiss, the sweetest and most painful one that you’d ever shared, “I’ll be waiting, my love.”

“I will be there, I promise, I swear everything on it.”

“I know, my love. Until we meet again.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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blu-joons · 3 years

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You Ask Him To Leave Your Home ~ Kim Namjoon

The state of your apartment as you walked in made you gasp, noticing not a single thing had moved since you left. You stepped in, careful of all the wrappers and boxes around the floor, to find Namjoon laid out across the sofa, scrolling aimlessly through his phone, unaware of your presence.

“Have you moves since I left for work?” You called out, making him jump. “I thought you said you’d tidy up.”

His eyes glanced across as you walked into the room, turning your nose up at the sight before you. Namjoon sighed as he then checked the time, struggling to see where the past few hours had gone since you left.

“I’ll do it in a little while,” he informed you, “I guess time just ran away with me for a while, I didn’t think it was so late.”

“Why didn’t you do it as soon as I left then you could sit down and relax? This isn’t your home Namjoon, it’s mine, and look at the state of it,” you cried out, perching on the end of the sofa. “It’s a simple thing I asked you to do, and you couldn’t.”

He groaned, throwing his phone down as he realised this wasn’t going to be something you’d quickly let go of. “Stop blowing up over nothing, I said that I’d clean it in a minute, and I will,” he sighed, shaking his head in your direction.

“You also said that six hours ago Namjoon. Is this really how we’re going to live, I invited you here to spend time together yet you’re treating it like a holiday. I feel like a mum caring for you right now rather than a girlfriend.”

“That’s just stupid,” he muttered, discarding your comment.

“How are you so oblivious? I’ve not been able to see the coffee table in weeks because of all your stuff around the place. It hurts that you’re so ignorant to how annoying I find this, are you really unaware of all of this?”

His shoulders shrugged, failing to find an answer. But as you watched his reaction, you knew he was choosing the wrong one, refusing to respect your home and what you’d worked towards.

“Honestly Namjoon, if you don’t clean this place up, I’m just going to have to ask you to leave because I can’t live like this. This isn’t your home, it’s mine, but you don’t treat it that way.”

At your sudden threat, he spun around, giggling lightly as he struggled to believe that you’d follow through with your words. He knew deep down that you loved having him around and coming home to someone.

“Are you going to say anything at all?” You shouted across at him.

“I just don’t get what the big deal is, we all have lazy moments, and this is mine. I know this is your house, but we’re in a relationship, so surely that makes this my house too.”

“That’s not how it works, I invited you here as my boyfriend, but also a guest. It gives you the right to be comfortable but not a complete slob. You always tell me how I should behave as the girlfriend of an idol, but there’s a way in which you should act too.”

“What’s wrong with how I act? You think I do something wrong?”

“Take a look around Namjoon and you’ll see what’s wrong. I might not be someone important, but I still want to live comfortably with pride.”

“You’re really going to carry on about this,” he sighed, “it really is no big deal.”

Your head shook, standing up from the sofa, scuffing your heel against an empty crisp wrapper. “It’s a big deal to me, why can’t you see that? This is my home Namjoon.”

You continued to weave around the mess as Namjoon stayed sat on the sofa. Once you were in the kitchen and out of view you let go of a few deep breaths, trying to keep yourself calm, not wanting him to see how upset you were.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t such a big deal, but on now what was the sixth occasion you were beginning to lose your temper. You began to question and doubt a huge part of your relationship, was this really the way you were going to live out the rest of your life?

“Why would you walk away?” Namjoon asked, walking into the room, “if this bothers you so much, why don’t you just tidy it up?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his remark, you were fed up with tidying up after him and babying him, if you were to live together and be a couple these were the sorts of things you had to do together, regardless of who you were.

“I’ve had things to do today too, just because I don’t go out and work in a fancy office, I still have a schedule, sometimes I think you think I do nothing,” he complained.

“That’s the last thing I think Namjoon,” you scolded, looking away from him, “you’ve made it quite clear to me enough times that you’re a busy idol, but that doesn’t stop you caring about your girlfriend’s home.”

You pushed past him and walked out into the living room, unplugging his phone charger from the socket. “Why are you doing that? My phone battery is going to die.”

“Then you can charge it somewhere else,” you stated, placing it beside his rucksack, “because I don’t think I can have you here anymore. My office isn’t fancy like you think, I’m not a world-famous idol like you are, but that doesn’t mean I should stand by and let me, and my home be disrespected like this time and time again.”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“No…I don’t know,” you huffed, “I just don’t know if this is a place, we both should be right now.”

You continued to move around the room until you had all of Namjoon’s things together, whilst he stood back and watched, still struggling to believe that you’d follow through.

“Maybe you can go back home or see one of the boys, and then we can rethink this situation when we’re calmer, but I can’t carry on the way we are with you here.”

“You were the one that told me to come here,” he challenged, “the one who said what is a life without you in it, that you wanted to see how we’d be forever.”

You nodded, remembering your words well. You threw everything into his bag and handed it across to him. “That was before I realised that this might be what forever looked like, I thought that things would go better than this, I thought nothing would change. But in fact, it feels like so much has changed, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He took the bag from you, blurring the rest of your voice out as you let him know you’d pack up the rest of his things over the next few days and drop it to the studio. It was only when you ushered him in the direction of the front door, did he begin to realise just how serious you were.

He spun on his heels as you opened up the door, staring back at you. “I’m sorry that you felt this was your only option, maybe we can use this time to reflect. I still want forever with you Y/N, and I hope you feel the same.”

You only managed to nod your head as you felt an overwhelming wave of emotions come over you, beckoning him out with your hand, hoping that the sadness in your eyes would be enough to let him know that you felt the same.

As soon as he stepped out, you closed the door, sinking to the floor as your tears finally fell, struggling to understand how this was what your relationship had come to you.

Everything you hoped to be forever, had suddenly become a huge question mark in your life.

---

Prompts: 62, 71

---

Masterlist

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aliaisonfanfiction · 4 years

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Chapter 71

Thranduil composed himself and stood, and yet his hands still trembled at the gravity of what he had seen. “We were all of us deceived. How could we have all been so blinded? His voice held such a foreboding weight the surrounding woods seemed to quiver at his words.

Galadriel sighed gravely as she turned to face the hoof trodden way, the thick branches of ancient trees arching and twisting together to form a canopy stretching across it.

Thin ribbons of light streamed through the boughs, illuminating silver the winter foliage below.

An immense power emanated from the bowels of the forest then, and Thranduil too turned to it, his hand on the hilt of his sword as the uneasiness stirred him to the core. He placed himself before the Lady of Lothlorien, but she placed a gentle hand upon his arm to placate him.

From the deep shadows emerged two tall, elderly appearing figures; one adorned in thick robes as white as the snows around them, lined with threads of silver brocades. His silvery hair and beard were specked with strands of black, his eyes shining balls of obsidian, piercing as they approached, full of the wisdom of the ages. The other, a little more than a hand shorter than his peer, wore a simple robe of gray that too matched the colour of his curled hair and dangling beard. His robes were tied to his waist with a plain band of hemp rope. Upon his head sat a matching pointed hat, its wide brim shadowing his rather congenial yet ragged features.

Thranduil eyed them suspiciously as they approached but made no move to stop them as Galadriel moved once more forward. Her expression was again clear and bright, her eyes shining through the dull light

“Curunír, Olórin, I have been expecting you…”

*********************************************************

She could no longer feel the biting freeze of the crystalline water as it eddied around her body. The current had calmed and the flow had shallowed, yet it kept her pressed between mossy boulders; imprisoned to its will. Any form of strength she had was now fully depleted, and her limbs, limp and numbed, scraped against the jagged rocks beneath.

Her eyes were growing ever more weighted as time trickled by, and the rushing of the winds and splashing of the river now seemed to bring a sense of immense calm. Had the doors of Mandos finally been opened to her? Would she be welcomed into its halls by the bright orb of radiating light that now engulfed her vision? She could barely feel herself gravitate towards it. The closer she came, the more her vision seemed to clear from the fogginess of her mind. A tall, flaxen-haired beauty knelt before her on the shore. His long robes of creams and golds shimmered in the infant light of the morning, a circlet of gold and rubies sat upon his head. His expression was utterly tranquil as he looked down to her pitiful state, but his amber gaze, piercing as it penetrated every crevice of her waning soul, filled her with an immeasurable fear.

His expression then could have been mistaken for one of sympathy, yet his thin lips curved into a wicked smile and he traced the sharp iron claw on his thumb down her sallowed cheek.

“My dear, what wonderful gifts you have brought me…” His voice was as smooth and sublime as the silks that clothed his deific frame.

Her emerald eyes widened as he towered over her, her ragged, shallow breath gasping in sudden piercing agony. Yet, no scream could escape her blued lips as the dagger cut through the sinew and flesh of her belly. An overwhelming numbness once more enveloped her, erasing all sense of notion. In one last act of desperation, she had wanted to pull on the robes of the fiend, but any effort she could muster was drowned out by the encroaching darkness. He turned and walked away from her, cradling both of her babies in his arms.

*********************************************************

His feet slipped on the slate as he scrambled down the ragged cliffside, determined to continue pressing on despite the heaviness of his despair. Her father had sensed, though fleeting, her presence. But too, they were all able to feel the heaviness of something far darker abound. Slipping once more on the sleet, the golden-haired warrior caught his arm and hauled him to a more stable footing.

“Cund vuin, be careful where you tread as an evil has shrouded these parts and has set itself against us.”

“Then I shall face it head-on.” The prince’s voice was stout and unwavering.

Yet, Glorfindel pulled him back sharply by the shoulder as he went to set off again. “There is something here, far beyond any of us.”

“I did not think that you, one who smote a follower of Gothmog, would be fearful.” Legolas glowered.

Glorfindel’s gaze turned austere and forbidding, and his mighty grip upon his subordinate’s shoulder tightened, causing the prince to flinch.

“Now is not the time for mocking words, Legolas. For unlike your sapling self I have faced creatures that you could never conjure, not even in your darkest and deepest nightmares. I have faced the full brunt of Morgoth’s evil. Do not be so willing to throw yourself into its clutches, for already a darkness has started to take hold of those closer than you would like to admit.”

Legolas had not realized he had begun to shiver in desperation. “But I must find Adlanniel. She is out there.”

Glorfindel loosened his grip and sighed, instead, stroking the young prince’s shoulder to soothe his panicked thoughts. “And we will find her, cund vuin. We will. But we must take caution. All of us. Do you think that Adlanniel would want you to be taken into its poison?”

“I would suffer through Morgoth’s abyss and beyond for her.”

“And I know you would, but she would not want you to. You know this. Do not be foolish. We will find her, but we must find her together.”

Suddenly a young, crimson-haired ellon scrambled along the cliff from the north. He was panting relentlessly once he reached their position, and Glorfindel placed a healing hand upon the lad’s shoulder to calm him. “You have found her…”

Bounding along the smooth stones of the riverbank, Legolas could see Adlanniel come running from the opposite direction, arms outstretched, her face alight with her brilliant smile, ready to leap onto him at a moment’s chance. So real had been his fantasy, that when it faded away to the reality of what lay before him, he felt stinging bile rise up in his throat.

His brethren that now knelt beside her, their heads bowed in sorrow, had covered her with the blankets from their rucksacks. They had tried to afford her some form of decency and respect, but in truth, they had all wanted to hide the desecration of her body.

Falling to his knees beside her, his hands shook violently as he enveloped her with his arms, his lips caressing the tears that had frozen on her sallowed cheeks, his own seeking to awaken her. Alas, she would not, and he knew that her eyes would now remain forever closed to him. Almost in a panic, he tried to shake her awake, and it was with Glorfindel trying to calm him that he noticed the dark crimson that was soaked into the evergreen blankets.

“Legolas, don’t…”

But the prince pulled the wool back from her body, and the wail that escaped him rang out through the small valley, alerting not only Elrond to their position.

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rockrupert · 2 years

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Terry Whitehead 14th April 2022

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cloecfe · 3 years

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ruhrkanalnews · 3 years

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WEITERE FAHNDUNG MIT FOTO

Es wurde eine 71-jährige in Hattingen bestohlen. Fahndungsfotos aus rechtlichen Gründen nicht bei Facebook #nutztDieCoronaApp #haltetAbstand #unterstütztLokaleUnternehmen

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wherespaulo · 4 years

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Hiking across Spain -- Seville to Santiago de Compostela

May 22 – June 26, 2019

From late May to late June of 2019 I’d decided to walk across Spain, from Seville to Granja de Moreruela along the Via de la Plata, and then to Santiago de Compostela on the Camino Sanabres -- 635 miles over 36 days. The Via de la Plata follows the route of an old Roman Road which, in the 9th century, along with the Camino Sanabres, became a pilgrim’s route to the tomb of St. James in Santiago de Compostela. As I’m sure has been the case with many a pilgrim on this route over the centuries, the inner journey would be just as important as the geographical.

I’d stay in small B&B’s/hotels and have my luggage transferred between them, so I’d only need to carry my day pack. I would navigate using Gerald Kelly’s simple guide and follow the way markers which vary depending on the region, although one can always rely on the customary and rudimentary painted yellow arrows on any Camino route if you get stuck.

I’d learnt over the years, and trust me on this, that light footwear is much more comfortable over long distances -- if you’re fit and steady on your feet then heavy boots are only really needed if carrying a heavy pack or walking in snow. So I wore very light running shoes for the whole route. When travelling light the average daily distance of 18 miles on relatively gentle terrain was not difficult, but the scorching heat in the south was tough for a while! For the first 14 days, Seville to Caparra, I had to set off very early, many times when it was still dark, so that I could finish by mid-afternoon before the temperature rose above 92F – after Caparra the temperature generally stayed below 80F as the altitude had increased to above 2000 feet.

I passed through some beautiful old Roman towns -- Zafra, Caceres and Salamanca were some of my favorites. Most had approaches into their walled towns over ancient pedestrian-only arched bridges spanning wide rivers, leading to enormous stone cathedrals and opening into vast plazas but the approach into Zamora, which sits on a riverside cliff top, took some beating.

Throughout the south and middle of Spain the landscape would continually interchange between open woodlands of cork oak, perfect lines of olive groves and vast expanses of vineyard. But when passing through uncultivated scrubland I was forever accompanied by the wild gum rockrose bush – as the sun started to rise, and once the temperature had exceeded 75F by about mid-morning, it’s distinctive intoxicating yet subtle woody and spicy aroma would start to fill the air. I could almost set my watch by it, if I had one. But as soon as I entered Galicia in the north west the landscape changed to lush shades of green, it started to rain (the first on my hike) and the bush promptly disappeared. Together with the Celtic traditions and bagpipe music everywhere (the Galician Celts were never really conquered by the Romans) I thought I’d unknowingly traveled through a portal into the wilds of Ireland. As well as the tastier food and solid granite architecture everywhere I’d probably say, if I had to choose, that Galicia was my favorite part of the hike.

I’m always on the lookout for interesting wildlife and I heard these before I saw them, cheering me on as I entered every town and village. The incessant clapping of multiple white stork beaks as they precariously peered out from their characteristically large, robust nests, all packed together and perched on top of every elevated position in sight – the ancient church or castle towers providing perfect galleries from which to applaud the performance below.

The storks were sorely missed when they abruptly disappeared somewhere in the north of Spain but another highlight of the avian variety was while eating my lunch in the shade of an olive bush, somewhere between Almaden and Monasterio, when I was thoroughly entertained for a full hour by a family of colorful European bee-eaters swooping for their own preferred cuisine in a never-ending dance of dazzling blue, yellow and red-brown flashes.

Being one of the less popular Camino routes I didn’t meet too many people but when I did they became the major highlights of the trip:

I met Joseph, mid-fifties, paunch, dark hair and thick moustache, over a few badly needed beers outside a small bar in Aljucen on a scorching hot afternoon. While chain smoking he would totally crack me up with his fast Galician accent but there was something mysterious and shifty about him – over the coming days he would just appear at strange times, as if out of nowhere. We’d hike a few times together and I would learn that his ‘real’ name was actually Ramon (or was it?) and he’d spend half the year working on an Argentinian fishing boat. Great guy but I wouldn’t buy a second hand car off him!

In the albergue in San Pedro de Rozados I met David who offered some of his pig cheek when he saw I wasn’t impressed with the tiny chicken drumsticks I’d ordered. We hiked the next day together to Salamanca, regaling stories from our pasts, our hopes and fears. He told me he was 71, although he seemed strangely ageless, and that he lived in the Findhorn Community, an eco-village in the north of Scotland – it wasn’t what he said so much as how he said it, the way he looked at me, as if he was peering into my very soul. I knew right then that I had to visit this Findhorn place. Indeed, they say the Camino’s are like that, where guiding lights will lead you onto new and unexpected paths.

Clemente was my soulmate. Of similar age and shaved heads we were totally in-tune even though we spoke different languages, communicating in single words, by using Google translate or waving our arms and making noises. We hiked many days together, sometimes in silence, always stopping for tortilla and expresso mid-morning and finishing the hike off with a very large late lunch washed down by copious amounts of red wine. One of my favorite memories was walking together in the rain, and without any prompting, we broke out into a rousing chorus of “I’m singing in the rain” with such enthusiasm -- me in English and Clemente in Spanish. We carried on like this for about 30 mins in pouring rain without a care in the world.

Silvia seemed to be in a rush with a purpose about her as she sped out of Salamanca in the early morning darkness like a ‘bat out of hell’. I was probably the only one around capable of catching her. She became my pace setter, almost at running speed. I did eventually catch up where I learned she was from Barcelona. I was thankful she spoke a little English, and she explained how the first couple of days of a long hike always served to remove the stress from her other life – by the third day she would start slowing down a bit.

Many people hike the Camino’s for the inner journey, being in no rush to reach any particular geographical destination. I spotted the young Korean about half-a-mile ahead, sitting on his rucksack in the middle of the footpath, watching the clouds, meditating and smoking a cigarette – he hadn’t moved an inch by the time I passed him where he barely even noticed me. Then there was the young Italian guy, unhurried, holding his roughly hewn staffs vertically and purposefully, one in each hand, planting each one down firmly with each very slow step. He’d ambled all the way across Spain like that – I never asked him how long it had taken him, but he didn’t care. And mustn’t forget the guy in his 80’s wearing traditional pilgrims attire, lugging his wheelie bag along a boggy footpath, unperturbed by the enormous hill that reared up in front of him. So how did he get to the bar in A.Gudina before us? Of course, it was the spirit of the Camino -- others had carried his bag over the hill for him…just like they did over the next few days too!

Most of these guys, who I would meet multiple times at different stages, were staying in the alburgues (bunkhouses with no fee, although the etiquette was to pay 10 euros per night) and carrying all their luggage. This all made me feel a tad guilty with my relatively posh accommodation and small day pack to carry. In retrospect, staying in alburgues is probably the best way to hike in Spain if you want to meet lots of interesting people -- as long as you can put up with the snoring. I did get invited to dinner a couple of times at their alburgues – one of these was in Tabara where Jose, the friendly yet eccentric manager and local author, passed around a selection of his home-brews; dangerous and probably illegal moonshine equivalents in dusty looking corked bottles. I’ve never tasted rocket fuel but if I had…

I was thrilled to be joined by Alex in Ourense and we caught up from where we last left off over the next four days en route to Ponte Vela. The highlight of this section was a visit to the 13th century Monasterio de Oseira. It had been raining hard so there were less than ten parishioners for their Sunday service, shivering and bedraggled. We were more than happy to have a chance to warm up when prompted by joining in the procession with the eight resident monks, doing circuits of the cloisters while Gregorian chanting, a pastime which originated in Galicia and which Clemente’s father was a well known local practitioner. As the voices from our small choir echoed around that vast, cold and damp interior, they seemed to resonate with something much deeper…something infinite.

As I stood before the enormous cathedral in Santiago de Compostela and considered the many weary pilgrims who’d ended their trek at this very same spot, I wondered whether, just like me, they’d considered that the real journey had only just begun.

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vecornate · 4 years

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noble-pro · 4 years

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Mixing Life with Moel Y Gest Fell Race

I want to install a bathroom in our basement. There are 5 pipes running parallel with each other; 1 x gas 1 x mains water 1 x hot water 2 x central heating I need to tee into the mains water and hot water pipes. I very methodically establish which pipe is which, and when I am absolutely certain, I draw a diagram of the order. Top pipe is gas, then mains, then hot water, then the 2 x central heating. Firstly, I am going to tee into the mains water pipe. So I switch off the water supply at the stop cock, run the taps totally dry, get all my tools ready, set the pipe cutter to 22mm, and remind myself it is the 2nd pipe I want. Whatever you do, don’t cut the top one; I then slowly, deliberately, cut through the top one. Gas hisses out furiously. I spend the rest of Tuesday afternoon dealing with that. Get finished by around 6pm. Sweat pouring off my brow. Just enough time to make it to Moel Y Gest fell race. Only 20min drive. Rush family in the car, and we are on our way. On a calm and sunny evening, I am wary of my calf. Have had an entire week off after London Marathon, lots of barefoot walking, lots of hill walking on uneven terrain, calf has responded really well. But still, this is a big test. I know that Owain Williams is running really well, so resolve to try and hang on to him for as long as possible. Calf gets looser as race goes on. Gosh, I am really enjoying it. So exhilarating and different from the monotony of road running. I am right on Owain’s tail until final descent, it is quite tricky and I can’t keep up with him. I’m not too bothered as there is a lovely stretch of flat road before the finish, surely I will catch him there. As we hit the tarmac my thighs are just jelly, oh yeah, I forgot about this, I can’t get them going at all, Owain storms to a well deserved ‘gun to tape’ to win. But man, I am so thrilled, just love it! Since London, things have been feeling really good. Calf has been kind, we have had gorgeous weather, and I have been sticking to a solid routine. Up at 6am, run, working by 8.30am. Wednesday morning, my dad is staying up here helping with the house. I ask him to drive me to the foot of Snowdon, at the unGodly hour of 4.45am, and I scramble up to Crib Goch with my drone. It is a perfect morning, very light winds. But still, flying the drone up there is complicated. Standing up there is complicated. I do manage to get some footage, then sling the drone on my back to make the traverse across the razorback ridge. I have done it several times and never had a problem. But this time, with massive heavy rucksack on, I am not finding it so easy. The weight really affects my balance, I am very unsure on my feet. The route is incredibly exposed, one slip could easily result in death. I start panicking, and that is just making it worse, rushing, trembling, not thinking straight. I FORCE myself to focus on my breathing, close my mouth and breathe through my nose. At the start it is almost impossible, but I gradually manage to slow down my breathing, and relax, and then I am fine. I take my time and start really enjoying it. When I get to Snowdon, the plan is to take the Llanberis path down to Llanberis and meet my dad for breakfast. I am really looking forward to this descent, if I had to race anyone in the world, I would race them down this path. As soon as I hit the trail, all excited and confident, I twist my ankle. No problem, I will just hobble it off, I’m in no hurry. Then, I see a guy running down just behind me. Shit, I instinctively shoot down the hill, swearing and limping with every other step. I’ve never been overtaken down this hill, and I don’t want to start now. Shit shit shit, ow ow ow! The pain gradually fades and I get away from the guy. By the time I hit the tarmac, there is only 400m till the bottom. I am bursting for a pee, so take a quick look round, no one is sight, and I jump into the bushes. The guy comes out of nowhere, and overtakes me. Oh well, bollocks to it. I usually blog on Monday, I missed last Monday, then missed this Monday, and now it is Friday, you would think I might as well wait till next Monday. But this here blog has become my only actual training diary. So I need to get it down before I forget everything. By all accounts, Friday evening is supposed to be the worst time to post, since most people are out doing stuff. But my readers are mainly runners, so probably staying in, like me, on their Friday night. In which case you might just have the time to read my latest ruminations. We shall see! Non-Running Related Highlight Of The Week Spend a weekend up in Gelli. A stone house in the mountains, with no road, no electricity, no running water, no phones. To be replaced with fires, candles, walks, scrambles and books. Best Thing On The Internet This Week There are a growing number of subscribers to the phrase “trust the process”. I’m just going to come out and say it, I hate that line. Which process? Whose process? What if it’s the wrong process? And you are blindly following it off a cliff?! And then there’s the word ‘process’. To me, process means robot. It means processed ham, it means; you are born, you grow old, and you die. The world doesn’t need more people going around trusting the process. Fuck the fucking process! And replace it with this… We are not coming back. There are no second chances. So I’m not putting the most exciting adventures on hold any more. The words fearless and fire are the words that get me out of bed in the morning. If you haven’t seen my latest drone runner vid, please check it out below! Link here Thing I’m Digging This Week This program on BBC World Service, about runners and shoes and feet. Sums up my feelings about a lot of stuff, highly recommend! https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/w3csz4bd 6/5/2019 AM PM Monday 10tm REST Feel refreshed after week off. Body is good, calf gets looser as I go Tuesday REST Ras Moel Y Gest. 6 miles total 2nd place – 33.09. Calf pretty good Wednesday 4 REST Thursday 10tm REST Friday 10 REST Saturday 11 mountains 3. Volunteering at Academi First time in the hills for a while. Love it! Sunday REST REST ankles achey after mountain running yest. Plus, just tired! TOTAL: 54 miles tm = treadmill 13/5/2019 AM PM Monday 10 mountains REST feel much more comfortable in the mountains that 2 days ago Tuesday 10tm 6 x 800m in 2.27 (2min rest). 2x200m (30 sec rest) 31,27. 7 miles total perfect weather on track. Just keeping a lid on it, still wary of calf Wednesday 8 mountains REST Up Crib Goch with drone, absolutely epic Thursday 10tm REST Friday 10 Saturday 5 x 1km in 3min (3min rest). 6 mile total ™ REST procrastinate late into the morning, but session goes really well Sunday 10 mountains REST Beautiful morning TOTAL: 71 miles tm = treadmill

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