New Year’s Eve and as the old, spectacular and rather wonderful 2012 slipped away, we turned out the lights, listened to the fireworks with a cat who was oblivious to anything except his snores, and set the alarm for 7.30am.
By 8.30-and-a-bit we were in Hyde Park, not that one down South in The Smoke, the Leeds version, with 150 other people in various stages of hangover recovery, all shivering in shorts and tee-shirts and ready for the first parkrun of the year. The torrential rain from the past – ooo – six months – had created a couple of little lakes to splash through so the cold water had a sobering effect on us all.
The New Year, it seems, doesn’t have the allure it once had, with many of us staying at home or hanging out with friends and family rather than hitting the streets and partying with the revellers. Certainly judging from the texts I was sending and receiving and social media updates I saw, the partying was a sober affair. It was pretty quiet in our house, apart from the cat’s snores, that is.
So an early start, a brisk run with friends, and a smidgen or two of mud to welcome a new year. I’ve not really made any resolutions this year, nothing specific, anyway, except to start as I mean to go on, which is to work hard, play hard and spend more time with those I love – and that’s a lot of people!