As Murray was in Inverness to tile his sister's bathroom we decided that a good way to spend Saturday evening would be a swift jog up to the mast on Dunain Hill. We both got our excuses in early with Murray's aerobic fitness not quite up to last years standard and my doctor telling me to take it easy on account of a dodgy back. Nevertheless we wheezed and complained our way up to the fine viewpoint and enjoyed an interesting decent; with only a single headtorch for company.
Steph provided us with a fine dinner (one of the few good reasons to go running is to be able to eat more) and kindly took this picture, which shows off to good effect how much of a complete tool I look in my shorts and also features my trusty ice-pack for fixing dodgy backs, hips, knees etc.
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