Wordsmithing

Tuesday, 1 January 2013

Nothing in the world can take the place of Persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan 'Press On' has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

Calvin Coolidge

Every New Year’s Day, I love to think about the year that’s raced to its end, as well as the promise of the year ahead. It’s so me: if I’m not reflecting I’m analysing and if I’m not doing that I’m planning.

My goals for this year are:

To read more
To set time related goals
To live life to the full
Be thankful for everything I have
To find new music to be passionate about
Learn something new –my course prospective is earmarked with my determination to achieve this one
Travel somewhere I’ve never been to before – we have a wedding to attend in Corfu but this won’t meet my “never-been” criterion. My big somewhere might end up being a holiday camp with a football team!
Eat healthy
To live in the now

4 comments:

Golden Eagle1 January 2013 at 23:01
Those are great goals! :)

Eat healthy ended up on my list, too.
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The Happy Whisk1 January 2013 at 23:32
It's been awhile since we chatted. Here's hoping you nail all your goals in the new year. Cheers and boogie boogie.
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RETURN: YA Paranormal Romance

I was running late. But, it was nothing I couldn’t make up with a bit of effort. I shook my head. Confident and happy? I smiled. Increasing my stride, I pushed until the muscles in my legs burned. I kept up the pace even when the hill grew steeper.

Magpie Lane was hardly wider than a ribbon that edged the woods but that didn’t stop traffic using it to get to the motorway quicker. Large trucks and fast cars loved Magpie Lane. They sent vibrations running through me rising from the soles of my trainers. I felt the disturbance in the ground, even before the air pressure tried to knock me off balance. I hunched my shoulders as the cab hauling a container spat stones up at me.

Jogging on the spot, at the entrance to woodland, I ached to leave the road and go inside. My Mum was probably still asleep but I could hear her you-never-know-what might-be-in-there lecture buzzing on repeat inside my head. I should run safe. Not even I would argue that running through the woods on my own was the best definition of safe but I wanted to run-wild and the woodland offered me that. This early, I should be safe from axe murderers or perverts in the trees and besides, I was fast.

I jogged down the slope into the trees. From two paces in, I felt different. Freer. It felt so right. Running in the woods did great things for my style. Avoiding the roots and dodging branches forced my stride longer, I had to step higher. The woodland, The Weald, was only a sliver of ancient woodland that the developers forgot to build on but it felt like it could have been anywhere. Everywhere. At any time. The oaks and beech trees dominated the space and the skinny, silver-birches squeezed up beside them. I laughed. For a second, the woods reminded me of school and I needed to run a lot faster.

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Tuesday, 1 January 2013

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