It's a lovely park, with lots of open green space, lots of trees, and great play areas for children. Sometimes when I'm there, I pretend I'm at a park in Paris. This doesn't make a lot of sense considering that I have never actually been to Paris and have no idea what its parks are like. But still. I imagine that everyone is speaking French and that they are out for a stroll before going to the market to buy bread and cheese. Bonjour, Monsieur et Madame! (That could be wrong. I don't speak French.)
Shady. Cool. Wonderful. Such a relief after this relentless heat. The breeze on my skin felt so good. I could have stayed all day (not running the whole time, of course, but I'd have been happy there with a picnic lunch and a tasty beverage).
My right foot turns out naturally - see above. I walk and run like a duck. Sometimes I imagine that I could have been a ballet dancer: first position would have been so easy for me. Again, like the French park thing, this makes little sense. I have no dancing ability whatsoever, I'm too short and stocky to be a ballet dancer, and my cellulite would be tough to disguise in a leotard. But I pretend anyway.
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