Excercise is all well and good in small doses. Not so much when carrying heavy fucking shopping bags up the crag behind the abbey. That's not so much fun. Especially when we finally hear people and Dragal suggests just running up to them. Steepness nearly cost me a lung.
On the other hand, once there and settled 'twas a good night. There was drinking, music, very random — yet inspiring — conversations, and all that there like. Angus' music taste was it's usual impressive self, and I seem to remember being termed a technozombie for my Rez addiction. I bowed out at about half two and slowly made my way back, on account of being drunk and cold and the path not the best of things to walk in moonlight and thus falling over a few times. No major damage at all, and I'm almost used to the sensation of the ground coming for my head. Bumped into protocol_rain and figg about halfway down and headed the rest of the way home.
So: this morning, I have a headache, several new bruises, marks from various thistles, and an ankle/wrist pair that are reminding me that I twisted them at some point in the past 12 hours. I also know that we have to do such an outing again.