Woodberry Wetlands is slowly waking up.

Woodberry Wetlands is slowly waking up.

Now if I'm not mistaken Woodberry Wetlands is slowly waking up. There are signs of life wherever you go. On a run this morning, there were the usual walkers, runners, joggers, observers, families with young children and groups of reservoir locals who seem to take a genuine pleasure in just strolling, stopping, looking, pointing out, passing comment and then staring admiringly at the wildlife and relaxing scenery around them.

There's a considerable amount of green boarding around the whole of the Wetlands periphery. At one end of the Wetlands reservoir a new children's playground has suddenly sprung up from nowhere. Actually it couldn't have sprung from nowhere because this would imply that the playground had just appeared one morning like some mystical apparition.

The central feature of the playground is a fantastic looking wooden wigwam which, contrary to popular belief, isn't inhabited by Red Indian tribes. This wigwam looks very challenging but great fun to those who like clambering over wigwams in Manor House. Personally I preferred the more conventional roundabouts and slides of my childhood. Still I'm sure the kids around here will just love this very imaginative structure.

Next to the wigwam are the now familiar tunnels, climbing frames and ropes that you normally associate with those very early years of your life. Now that spring is almost here it's interesting to see how much noisier and livelier the whole of Woodbury Down and Woodberry Wetlands is gradually becoming.

Near the Coal House cafe, a meeting place for friends, families and dogs, tables and chairs are now beginning to assume their natural place in the order of things. You can almost hear the whole area yawning and sighing, bones cracking and snapping, heartbeat quickening, pulse accelerating and a general sense of wellbeing and civility.

It was at this point that the Coal House cafe suddenly seemed to come alive. Just outside the cafe a group of enthusiasts gathered outside. They looked like country hikers or ramblers wearing thick boots and thick coats. After a brief discussion about their next course of action they started pottering around as if not entirely sure where they'd be going next. Then there was a private giggle or two followed by a friendly exchange about the latest influx of birds seen in the reservoir.

The whole of the Wetlands reservoir is the most joyous of landscapes. If you didn't know you were in London suburbia you'd swear you were in some snug corner of Cornwall. Rushing waters gush out feverishly from the reservoir with what looks like impatience but on closer inspection is Mother Nature at her most natural.

You walk through a rusty brown arch which takes you all the way round to the Coal House cafe. And here I met my country hiking friends. Suddenly a couple of hastily arranged tables and chairs spilled out of the cafe almost accidentally. I couldn't quite see what condition the tables and chairs were in because some of the chairs were on the tables and hadn't properly been taken down.

As a full time jogger- you've probably seen quicker tortoises- it is now very comforting to see that there are  people of like mind. I've now been jogging and running on and off for a number of years. It occurs to me that perhaps my only reason for running is a simple pursuit of complete fitness rather than any competitive motive.

I have to tell you that I'm no Mo Farrah nor have I any aspirations to become the next Mo Farrah. Mo Farrah would probably have left me so far in the distance that you may have needed search parties to find me. But my reasons are perhaps commendable given the frequent news bulletins on health, lifestyle, keeping fit and the avoidance of obesity.

Thankfully none of my family or friends neither binge, over eat, smoke or drink so there are no immediate worries about their health. At times I do feel like an idiot because there are so many other sports I could be participating in without the repetitive exertion that running entails. I've played a couple of games of knockabout, undemanding tennis with a friend of mine and this does make me feel good.

But jogging and running does work up an agreeable sweat without any of the damaging injuries or niggles that seem to be the lot of most athletes. Footballers, rugby players, tennis maestros and all of those sports that require full blooded commitment and physical engagement often go down in a crumpled heap when some part of the anatomy just breaks, sprains or just leaves you writhing about in agony.

Still off I went on my run. There is a long, winding gravel pathway that has yet to recover from the recent rainfalls. There are muddy puddles everywhere and sometimes when the going gets too tough I begin to wonder what  I'm doing but hey you've got to keep the body moving at all times. I listen to the  well intentioned advice from those people who spend most of their time in the gym or swimming pool when sluggishness creeps into your everyday routine.

I'm now 54 and sometimes I begin to privately convince myself that my body is slowly betraying me and although the head may be willing, the body may not be able. But now I set off on a Sunday jog around the reservoir without a single doubt or any kind of reservation about the reservoir. Of course there are long term health benefits and at no time should be there any questioning what may seem a very isolated sport.

On my way round the reservoir I became aware of a nearby school and those inquisitive geese strutting around quite nonchalantly without a care in the world. Some of the bird life in the Wetlands is truly a painter's territory. black chicks floating around effortlessly and wondering where their next meal would be coming from. Still it has to be better than waiting patiently at a Morrisons check out.

After roughly three quarters of an hour of intensive huffing and puffing, labouring and struggling I began to find that my whole body was in a state of complete revolt. This is surely not the way exercise should be. Perhaps I should be taking it easy in my now advancing years and just walk very quickly rather than gasping almost wretchedly for breath.

After three circuits of the Wetlands reservoir I came to an almost comical halt and started to wonder what had happened to my nature watchers. At intermittent intervals I did see one or two runners who I'd seen on my previous travels and that gave me a sense of complete deja vu. Maybe there were consolations and comforts to be found in jogging after all.

 Besides I was quite clearly not the only one this morning to wake up, pull on a pair of shorts, running trainers and a T-shirt. Now I know the Olympic Games in Tokyo maybe three years away but I quite obviously have the endurance or stamina for the Marathon. I think Mo Farrah should be given ample warning. I can almost see the gold medal now. Oh what wishful thinking.