Bronte rambles

In deference to an increasingly sedentary lifestyle I have decided to walk and punish my body into submission and today was the first long walk. Up to Old Oxenhope Lane, across the common, round Penistone Hill and back into Haworth. Don't know how far it was but an oxygen post at the top of the common would make a fortune dispensing to those of us of a certain age.
The scenery is beautiful and as I transcended the pain barrier I really did enjoy it (ask me tomorrow). It's amazing how in the solitude of the moors the few people you meet usually speak. I think some did out of concern that I might have been breathing my last, but to the young lady with the spaniel I give my thanks, because if I hadn't stopped for ten minutes then I could have been a candidate for the air ambulance.
One wag to whom I remarked that I was discovering how unfit I was sad, "It gets better the more you do it." Thanks.
The sun shone, I am turning nut brown and thank God for the trusty oak stick which I had with me. I did consider at one point tying a white handkerchief to it and waving in surrender but I eventually arrived home.
Where next? Who knows? This area is alive with walking challenges and I'm up for them, but, damn it, I couldn't find any bilberries.