We’re back at my mum’s house, in Newcastle. Each morning this handsome guy comes to my side of the bed, taps me on the shoulder and says, “Let’s go!”. And so I grogily get my cross trainers on, meet him out the front of the house and we set off to explore the neighbourhood I grew up in. The beauty of this area is that it’s surrounded by lots of bush and lots on hills. Today we briskly walked to the bottom of my street, and then climbed the steep hill know as Aberfeldy Close. At the top, we had the choice of turning back or exploring the bush. Of course, we chose the later.

As we wound our way through the tree covered hills, we were greeted by a chorus of native birds – Magpies, Galahs, Lorikeets, Cockatoos and even crows. I told my trainer about my sister and I getting up to ‘no good’ in these woods as kids, and marveled about how much it had all changed. In one area the trees were charred black by a recent bushfire. In another area the trail I took as child didn’t exist anymore – suburbia had taken over. We are indeed lucky that we still have what bush we do.

My personal trainer is contantly looking for more challenging routes to take, as well as hearing about my childhood antics. Hopefully it won’t be too long before I can walk beside him up the hills, and be able to talk without huffing and puffing the whole way. Although I don’t mind trailing him on the tracks, cause his behind is not such a bad view…. Don’t worry, my P.T. is Sean. He’s pretty good at it too.