Back in the city I ran over astroturf and the perfect surface of the stadium running track, even the cross country running was a sanitized version over the parkland like hill that the developers thought to steep to build on. Now all I have is this farmland, beautiful so long as you don't have to run over it. There are ruts, pot holes, rabbit warrens, stones - and all of them hidden in the partially grown meadow grass. A few months from now there will be flowers, wild ones, ones that perhaps when I am older I will have grown to love as I walk the labrador I am bound to get once I am over forty. But right now my legs are burning to run and run fast, burning to cover not metres but miles and every forth step I twist my ankle fit to snap. And if it doesn't snap, I will, these muscles that have taken years to develop will be fat in a few short months and then I won't even want to run anymore. I'll be like the rest of the kids my age, junk food, computer games and out of breath to climb the stairs. Maybe I should just get that labrador now and start wearing J-crew...