The Usual Run Around

Saw this advert reproduced on the Red Bikes blog. I like it.



Now if only I could get out on the bike. Love the weather, but hate the lack of training opportunities. If I had a MTB I’d probably risk coming to work on it but I’m not getting the road bike, particularly not with all that salt on the roads.

The Carriageworks Theatre in Leeds has demonstrated the Dunkirk spirit and vowed that the show must go on, although only nine people showed up for Wednesday night’s performance of the very appropriate ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’. Of course we’ve no idea if that’s a normal sized audience for them or not but by braving the weather and putting the show on regardless they’ve gained some excellent publicity. Smart move.

Seems Nottingham City Council has reneged on its promises as regards the Victoria Leisure Centre. Originally they had planned to keep it open until the new centre was ready in 2011 but now apparently they now intend to close the centre at the end of March this year. Yet there are no approved plans yet for the redevelopment and no planning permission in place. Seems it’s all to do with the council running out of cash after playing Icelandic bank roulette with our money and losing.

There is public meeting next Wednesday January 13th at 6pm at the Training Suite, Victoria Leisure Centre to discuss this latest development.



Finally some exercise and I play squash tonight. It’s a good workout as I’m given the usual run around, which is exactly what my legs need.

Better Late Than Never

The snow finally reaches Derby. Better late than never I suppose but there’s still not very much of it. There is just enough though to enable the first snowman of the year to appear outside work.



Due to the carnage being caused by the weather up here, not, I get a text at 9.30 to say that training tonight has been cancelled. As I’ve said, we’ve still not had very much of the white stuff compared with what the rest of the country has had and I had even got to work quicker than normal this morning because there was less traffic on the roads. Obviously a lot of people had either believed the hype and stayed at home or just simply took the opportunity for a skive and a day’s sledging. So the cancellation of training is just a little premature, particularly as the snow is due to stop around mid-morning.

Then an hour later I get another text to say that it’s all back on, although with a reduced session. I think perhaps they’ve had a lot of responses along the lines of ‘Snow? What snow?’. Even Nottingham City Transport appears to be running almost a full service and the kid’s old secondary school is open, when it’s usually one of the first to throw in the towel. Unless of course all those complaints I wrote last year have had an effect.

L keeps sending me events that clash with the Cheshire Cat cycle ride. She claims this is accidental and the Cheshire Cat, which she’s already entered in, had simply slipped her mind. Which it keeps doing.... I’m sure it is accidental but if I didn't know her better I'd think she was trying to get out of that particular event. Won’t happen though. I’ll keep reminding her and she knows she can rely on me to get her to the start line.

MD is simply excellent at training. For once he seemed to understand what he was supposed to be doing and does it well. It’s a tad cold though, if L was here she’d make him wear a coat. By the time I get the old man out of the car for his training I’m starting to lose the feeling in my feet. They feel a bit like they did when I dipped them in the stream at the Huncote Hash.

Thankfully L has a welcoming and warming curry ready for me when I finally get home.

The Deep And Crisp And Even

As I’ve already mentioned, with the freeze predicted to last for some time, chances of biking this week at all are remote. However, as overnight we gained a nice inch of the deep and crisp and even stuff. Well it’s not exactly deep but I figure this morning would be a good time to attempt a run. It got to be better than running on the dreadmill, which is what I’ll be forced to do otherwise.

Snow can be quite good to run in when it is fresh and still quite grippy. This does appear to be the case as I jog up to catch the bus from the QMC. Unfortunately once I alight from the bus in Borrowash I realise that yet again Derby seems to have missed out on the white stuff. So I’m faced with a slither along icy paths instead. Thankfully the route down by the river allows for plenty of running on the grass which is good because running on the path is more than a touch dicey. Despite this I see almost as many bikes as usual, probably 30 or more, and only about half with sensible tyres. The rest of them on the sort of unsuitable mount that I usually ride. Despite this I don’t see any one fall off.

The next problem I face is due to latest bout of concreting over of the countryside that’s going on down there. They’re shut the river path again and divert me on to the main road, where more slithering ensues. I eventually skate into work, only six minutes slower than usual, which isn’t bad considering the ice and the detour that must have added half a mile.

L reports that not only has Daughter taken a tumble on the ice, mind she was probably Facebooking at the time rather than looking where she was going, but Doggo has taken a slide too. Both are apparently fine.

After work, I opt out of playing roulette with the ice pavements by running home and take the easy option of the Red Arrow instead.

I get home to find that Daughter has gone and had all her hair cut off, well not quite but it’s pretty short. Question is what she going to spend two hours a day doing now she has so little hair to style? No need for hairdryers, hair spray and the like.

The girls head off to see the Derby Panto or are they just going to see Neil Morrissey.



Either way I decline their offer to join them. Pantomime has never really been my sort of thing but I’m sure they’ll have a good time. Oh no they won’t, oh yes they will. Apparently the pantomime is packed out but there’s not a man in sight. Funny that.

In Case Of Emergency

I had hoped to cycle today and would have done, had it not been so wintry. L had planned to do her Cheshire Cat training around Holme Pierrepont and that’s not happening either. Looking at the forecast, the weather isn’t going to make cycling very feasible for a while.

I console myself by supplementing my lunch with assorted goodies from L’s Christmas presents. This is totally legit by the way. She asked me to dispose of all the edible gifts she received and I didn’t like to refuse. Hence the reason they are now all in my drawer at work. Save for one small box, which I’ve hidden in the bedroom, in case of emergency.

In the evening, MD starts his new class, with cage. L is worried he might be cold in his cage and suggests an extra blanket. She’s missing the point. His cage is not supposed to be comfy as he’s not supposed to spend much time in it. He’ll only end up in it if he’s a bad boy and I’m sure he’s not going to be.

In fact, MD does very well. He only gets caged a few times for barking and each time he was provoked by another dog being the first to bark. That is until later, when we do some start line sprints which means there are dogs racing across the arena. He can’t resist having something to say about that and becomes a more permanent inmate.

Relaxing later in bed, I see something large and black crawling up the duvet, it’s almost as large as a pint sized collie but it’s not MD, who is asleep across the bottom of the bed. This creature’s got eight legs and, in fact, climbs over MD as it moves towards me. From its lofty position on MD’s back I’m sure it winks at me before continuing its journey upwards, along L’s thigh. At which point I warn L that we (the four of us) are not alone in the bedroom, we have an unwanted visitor. I can immediately tell from the expression on her face that she thinks that I best put a stop to its crusade forthwith. So I chivalrously but regretfully slay the beast. L seems grateful, very grateful. So I don’t get to read any of my books again tonight.

Trench Foot

This morning we defrost the car and drive down the M1 to Huncote in Leicestershire for a spot of cross country, something by the name of the Huncote Hash. The race is on because unlike the Caythorpe run last week it’s not on road so won’t be as slippery. That’s the theory anyway.

Cross country is not my thing at all. I prefer any terrain that I run on to be smooth and tarmac if at all possible, kind of road like, certainly not muddy. Luckily, the fact it’s so damn cold should render the mud meaningless.

I have my River Trent hardened shoes on, the ones I used for Survival of the Fittest and they still have bits of genuine Trent algae hanging off them. They will feel at home in this race, as there’s a stream that we are required to run down. L considers wellies but in the end pulls her orienteering shoes out of what they thought was their peaceful retirement.

As we stash the dogs in the car and head down to the start, they immediately start a duet of howling, totally embarrassing but we can’t give into such blackmail. We ignore them, fully expecting someone to report us to the RSPCA.

We line up for the start amongst a group of cowboys and Indians; fancy dress seems to be the order of the day. Some of the girls are in saris; they have perhaps come as the wrong type of Indians. There’s even a gorilla lurking somewhere near the back of the pack.

I start well but then concede a lot of places. I’m not pushing myself too hard on such a perilous course. I have bigger fish to fry coming up and this event is basically just an excuse to get some miles in. How many miles, I’m not sure, as they are very vague about the length of the course, 6 miles, 6.5, maybe more. I also don’t have the correct footwear on and some of the hills they have us on are quite steep. I almost slide off a few of them. A camber up one ice covered hill, the surface seemingly polished by the runners ahead, and go sliding most of the way back down again. Despite struggling to stand up at times, I still think I’m doing quite well until a gun toting cowboy comes running past me.



Rumour has it that the course offers spectacular views of the surrounding villages and countryside but unfortunately I can’t look up to see because I’m too worried about where I’m putting my feet.

Towards the end, some parts of the course have thawed out a bit and I finally get some traction, managing to run at something approaching normal race pace but then just as I’m getting in to it, we come to the ‘highlight’ of the run. The wade through the stream. Thankfully the earlier runners seem to have broken the ice on the surface. The water though is still feet numbingly cold. My first thoughts are that thankfully it’s only a short section of water. Then once I’m up to mid calf in the freezing water, I think what a long stint it is. As I emerge out the other side, I have to look down to check that my feet as still attached to my ankles as I can now no longer feel them. It takes a good few minutes to warm them back up again and then thankfully it’s the finish.



My time was over 54 minutes for however far it was. They describe it as a fun event, a chance to fun and blow away the Christmas and New Year excesses. Doesn’t stop them disqualifying the first two runners home, who were minutes ahead of the rest of the field and it’s suspected that they found a short cut somewhere.

I fetch the dogs from the car and wait for L to come in. She duly does, managing to hold off a late surge from the gorilla.



Afterwards we retire to Scruffys, to nurse our trench foot and to try out their Sunday lunches. They are all out of beef, so their roast consists of grilled best steak, which is a rather nice variation. The soup starter is also rather tasty and filling, particularly when I remind L of her resolution to cut down on her bread consumption, which means I get double. I’m always thinking of her wellbeing.

(Photos Huncote Harriers AC)

What Does It All Mean?

It starts snowing quite heavily on the park this morning but later it turns to rain. All of which puts paid to any aspirations of repeating the long cycle ride that I did last week.

Instead, shock horror, I venture down to the sales. Not that anything I ever want is in the sale and this year is no exception. I do yet a cover for my new phone though but couldn't get the walking boots I wanted.

The best day of the football season, the FA Cup 3rd Round is pretty much shock free, unless you regard Derby not losing at Millwall as a shock. It shocked me. So I have a replay to go to a week on Tuesday.

Then due to the weather curtailing any serious outdoor exercise I visit the gym with L. 6k bike, 1k row, a few weights but then only enough time for a 1 mile run as we rush out, coffees in hand, to catch the bus to Derby to replenish lost fluids.

The best thing about the gym session was my new gadget, my new Heart Rate Monitor toy. Which to my utter amazement, the councils gym equipment manages to pick up seamlessly and display my heart rate on their screens. Wow. This moment is worth savouring because it is the one and only time I’ve been impressed in a council gym.

My gadget tells me 'my zone' is 120-141 bpm or something like that but the bike takes it up to 161. The run surprisingly tops this and it goes up to 170. Which seems high but I have a bit in hand, as my limit is 178. I assume this the point at which your body gives out. It’s calculated as 220 minus your age (226 for women).

What does it all mean? I have no idea, I need to Google it.

I continue to mull it all over, with a few beers in my hand, in Derby’s now rather wonderful, Silk Mill.

Fantasy Shuffle Selection: 20 Tracks From 2009

As the final part of my review of the year, I thought I would have a 'fantasy shuffle' selection. A varied selection of 20 tracks that my ipod would pick out on it's own, if it was clever.

Its 20 Tracks From 2009 would probably have looked something like this (in no particular order) :-

Talking Hotel Arbat Blues - Handsome Furs
Some Dresses - Dananananaykroyd
Who Can Say - The Horrors
Only If You Run - Julian Plenti
The Outsiders - Doves
Scheme Eugene - Red Light Company
Reflection Of The Television - Twilight Sad
Place To Hide - White Lies
Multiplayer - The Voluntary Butler Scheme
Devour - Marilyn Manson
Cradle - Joy Formidable
The Fastest Way Back Home - Frank Turner
Shock Horror - The View
Oh! Forever - Brakes
Think Again - The Hours
Crystalised - The XX
Bricks And Mortar - Editors
This Blackest Purse - Why?
Cornerstone - Arctic Monkeys
Little Lion Man - Mumford And Sons

The Smell Of Bacon

The smell of bacon, the sound of Daughter’s vocal chords (still going strong after twelve hours) and the beginnings of a hangover get me up fairly early this morning. After serving notice to the hangers-on from last night’s party, I head off on to the park with the dogs and also fetch the car back from where we left it last night.

When I get back home we still have guests but the last few stragglers finally leave around midday. Son summarises the evening on his Facebook, his post apparently done using the on-screen keyboard because his got damaged mid-party, along with his bed and several other things. A pretty good night he reckons, hmmm.

We stay in for the rest of the day, to dry out and clear up. The amount of empties is staggering; I have a serious amount of glass recycling to do. Meanwhile my hangover appears to be working in reverse and getting steadily worse.

I am thrilled for one Derby County stalwart who has been named in the New Year Honours list and awarded an MBE. Gordon Guthrie has been at Derby for as long as anyone can remember. He certainly appears in every team photo taken since I’ve been supporting the club. Guthrie was formerly on the playing staff but then in the late sixties returned to serve as first second team trainer before becoming the clubs physiotherapist. Consequently he has served under over twenty different managers and was given a testimonial in 1988 for 20 years’ service. He is at the club now as kit manager. Gordon will probably never retire and he probably knows too much for anyone to dare to ask him to leave. If he did ever write his memoirs it would be a very revealing read but it won't happen, he’s not the sort of chap to dish the dirt.

Favourite Albums Of 2009

Third part of my review of the year, my favourite ten albums of the past year.

These are just my personal favourites of course and everyone will have their own opinions but then if we all liked the same thing then the world would be just like one big branch of Tesco, where everyone is told what to like.

There are probably some omissions form this list, just like last year when I missed out on some of the best albums of 2008 simply because no one told me about them.

10. A Balloon Called Moaning - Joy Formidable



A wonderful debut album from the Welsh threesome, with apologies to Matt, the Devonian drummer.

9. Julian Plenti Is Skyscraper - Julian Plenti



Him of Interpol, sounding very Interpol. Not doing much solo that is different from with his band but still doing it rather very well.

8. Sigh No More - Mumford And Sons



Brought to my attention by a sixteen year old with a guitar at a GCSE presentation evening but I'm not too proud to take advice from a teenager.

7. To Lose My Life - White Lies



A bit tired and old hat now, as this stuff harks back to early 2008 and the album would probably have made top three had it been released then. Still good though, now we await new material.

6. In This Light And On This Evening - Editors



Moodier than ever but just as good.

5. Fine Fascination - Red Light Company



Excellent new band on the scene and I guess the award for debut album of the year.

4. Kingdown Of Rust - Doves



In the days of vinyl, you would have kept moving the needle back to the start of side one because side one is awesome, side two less, so but still a welcome return from Doves.

3. Forget The Night Ahead - Twilight Sad



Possibly my discovery of the year, because obviously I fell in love with the pure misery of their lyrics. Sitting somewhere in Scotland between Glasvegas and Frightened Rabbit, they do epic sorrow. A must see live for 2010.

2. Face Control - Handsome Furs



Only a side project for Dan Boeckner and his wife but what a side project. More please.

1. Primary Colours - The Horrors



They dropped the goth parody, they laid bare their influences and they conquered. Excellent.

The Plus One's

New Years Eve and Virgin finally deliver my guaranteed delivery before Christmas wines. Their second promise had been to get it to me before New Year. I’m a little disappointed that they have, as it takes the sting out of the complaint that I was planning to send to them.

The wine arrives just in time for tonight's teenagers rave up at our house. I decide to leave the wine at work until after New Year!

During lunch we try and do our usual Thursday pub lunch, particularly as all the sandwich vans have deserted us but the kitchen staff at the pub have deserted us as well; at least they have rolls and liquid sustenance. Will be glad when things get back to normal.

Work at least show a bit of New Year spirit and let us leave at 4pm.

L and I head out early to celebrate the end of 2009. L walks the dogs to the Rodney pub, whilst I park up at out next destination the Hemlock Stone and then walk up to meet her. We have a few pints in there, both disappointing, Tiger & Directors, which reminds us why we don’t drink there anymore.

Then we head down the road to the Hemlock, shove the dogs in the car and wait for my parents. Here the Directors is better and the wine good too. The meal we have is Thai and impressive also. The pub is good too, practically jumping in here and it would have been an ok place to spend the whole evening. They have a live band on and they’re not bad at all. The place is rammed by the time we leave around 10.30.



We leave so that we can walk the dogs home where we need to check on the merriment that is occurring there. Doggo seems to know something is cracking off on his patch and he sets a furious pace home. He’s right; something is cracking off and the party is in full swing. We have put a load of stuff in the spare room for safe keeping, so that it doesn’t get broken. Unfortunately the party seems to have already over-spilled into there.

Apparently we have around 37 teenage revellers, where as usually Son invites around 15. Apparently everyone has been encouraged to bring a friend. When one girl embraces me and slurs that she’s a ‘plus one’, I’m not at first sure what she means but if she wants to hug me, then that’s fine. Turns out she means she’s one of the friend of’s. She can come again. Come midnight there’s a lot of embracing going on, even of ‘us parents’ and as a lot of it’s by teenage girls, they can all come again.

The amount of alcohol being consumed makes L and I look at our evening consumption in a better light. Then at 1pm, with things still in full swing we hit the sack, only for one of the girls to follows us into the bedroom! I wonder if she’s looking for somewhere to kip, I’m happy for her to curl up at the bottom of the bed if she wants but L might not approve. She says she’s just looking for someone and soon departs. We sleep but are awoken around 4am when it is clear the party is still going on. It goes quiet eventually but only until the cooking of breakfast commences at around 8am.