Will Slater: "I resolved never to do anything so foolish again" Published on Sunday 29 January 2012 12:05 A COUPLE of years ago, I decided to go for a life-affirming run in my lunch hour. On my birthday. As I'm known to occasionally stagger round Arthur's Seat, that might not seem like such a foolish thing to do. Except that it was blowing a gale and I decided, for no obvious reason, that only the Radical Road by Salisbury Crags would do. For those not familiar with this path, it is brutally steep as it hugs the hillside. It makes for an invigorating walk, but is not an ideal route for an occasional runner looking for an endorphin rush. I charged off, massively underestimating the scale of the task, and found myself having to walk up the last section. As my only rule for running is that I don't ever stop, it was a pitiful mix of self-loathing, shame and irritation that accompanied me as I plodded to the top, before breaking out into a feeble jog for the rest of the route. Why hadn't I taken the day off? Why hadn't I opted for a nice lunch instead? Months later I revisited the Radical Road, when the weather was better and I was a bit fitter, and managed to run up it, but I also resolved I would never do anything so foolish on my birthday again. Fast forward to last Sunday and I realised as I took a slurp of cava that I had taken the advice to heart. I was lying on the sofa in front of the fire reading, while everyone else in the family made a fuss of me. Our younger daughter put together a starter of blini with smoked salmon, crème fraîche and herring roe and carefully took my empty champagne glass, returning with one brimful of bubbly, while my older daughter was beavering away on a surprise meal in the kitchen with my wife. My son was a key player in the celebrations too, pulling all the crackers and jumping on me every so often. Ushered into the kitchen, I sat down to roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, glazed carrots, roast potatoes with rosemary and garlic, roast parsnips, steamed leeks and peas, with a red wine gravy. There were beaming faces all round as I marvelled at the feast. Pudding was a triple-layer chocolate cake baked by my eldest. It was a ridiculously happy moment as we dined, flushed with equal amounts of generosity and gratitude. Later, we went to Luca's café for an ice-cream then, on the way home, played car and sign bingo, fast-walking, then almost running, to overtake each other to see the next registration number or sign in a bid to be the first to see 20 pairs of matched letters or numbers. We arrived laughing and out of breath at the front door. As life-affirming goes, it was as good as it gets.