Day 72: Long Runs and Proud Dad Moments

A Dawn Departure

Sunday is usually the one day I can ease into the morning with a leisurely start, a small breakfast and perhaps even the Sunday morning news. But not today. With a packed family schedule ahead, I was out of the door by 6:30am for a long run into the countryside surrounding Sittingbourne. The world at that hour was still waking up and the mist rising from the roads had the look of something out of a poem—probably one where everyone dies tragically at the end, but beautiful nonetheless. The roads were quiet, save for the occasional early riser walking a dog that looked as though it, too, wished it was still in bed.

A Miniature Railway and a Detour

Partway through the run, I decided to hunt down the elusive Torry Hill railway. I had only found it once before and it remains one of those places where if you blink at the wrong moment, you’ll find yourself lost in the woods composing your own missing person poster. The turning for it is little more than an unassuming muddy path that looks as though it leads to nowhere in particular, but down it lies a fascinating relic of the past. This private miniature railway, built in the 1930s, sits on the Torry Hill estate and was part of a peculiar trend where estate owners built entire railways instead of just buying their children a train set like mere mortals.

I paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the old track, imagining the small steam trains that must have once rattled along the rails. It’s a reminder of a different era—one where, if you were rich enough, eccentricity wasn’t just tolerated, it was practically expected. After a brief moment of admiration, I turned back and retraced my steps, adding in a detour through Rodmersham Green, passing the cricket club as I went. The morning air was fresh, and the village had that serene, untouched quality that only exists before the day properly begins.

Miles in the Legs

By the time I reached home, I was pleased with my progress. I could have pushed a little harder, but there was no real need—today was about putting time in the legs. Long runs aren’t always about speed, they’re about convincing your body that spending over two hours repeatedly moving forward is, in fact, a perfectly reasonable thing to do. The run had done its job, leaving me tired but satisfied, the kind of fatigue that tells you you've earned your Sunday lunch.

A Proud Dad Moment

The rest of the day was taken up with the Sittingbourne Carnival Court Selection event at The Appleyard. And what an event it was! Emilia was appointed Sittingbourne Princess 2025, and Daisy will be Deputy Junior Miss Sittingbourne. Both will be representing the town at various events over the coming year and I couldn’t be prouder. Seeing them on stage, beaming with excitement, I couldn’t help but reflect on how quickly time passes. It seems only yesterday they were small enough to be carried on my shoulders and now they’re stepping into ambassadorial roles for the community.

It turns out that, much like a long run, raising children involves patience, perseverance, and the occasional moment of wondering how you ended up here—but at the finish line, it’s all worth it. As the day wound down, I finally had a chance to sit back, enjoy a McDonalds and reflect on a Sunday that had been, in every sense, time well spent.