How Wolf Run Gave me Back a Piece of Myself
I’m writing this because up until this morning I was sedentary, terrified, fuelled largely by bacon and sausage sarnies, and fully convinced I was about to spectacularly embarrass myself in public. Instead, I ended up muddy, exhausted, smiling - and unexpectedly hopeful. Not because I ran far or fast (I didn’t), but because the experience cracked something open in me that had been closed for a long time. This isn’t a fitness story or a motivational lecture. It’s just an honest account of what happened when I showed up scared and gave it a go anyway.