Geeky Spreadsheets

Both L and I have geeky spreadsheets of all the races we’ve done. L has been racing longer than me so she has done a lot more races than me. She has done a massive 542 races in total compared with my meagre 282 but it turns out that, out of my pitiful total, 91 of mine have been half marathons whereas L has only done 88.

She has done 8 marathons though to my 3.I'm still playing catch up there and her enthusiasm for number 9 seems to be waning. .She says her running Mojo appears to have up and left. I’ll have to hide her new hoover and only tell her where it is once she’s done her run or I could lend her our four legged Mojo He'd spur her on.

Instead Monday sees her out on the lash in Borrowash... and she’s out late. It’s almost eight o’clock when she gets on the bus home.

Tuesday turns out to be glorious day for cycling... but for reasons known only to me I don't. Well it was also a bit nippy.

Talking of nippy. L is still eyeing up outdoor swims. Brrr. The latest one to take her fancy is the Jubilee River Swim in Windsor. It’s 10km long with three weirs on the route, which I’m sure they’ll make the swimmers walk around and not go wa-hey over them. Even though L says ‘OMG I hope not!  Doesn't it look great?’ Erm. If she says so. I’ll hold her coat. She claims to have already been hardening herself to the prospect with cold showers at our local pool. 

Her latest PT session has her sprinting on a Watt bike. Now that’s more like it.

(Tuesday 25^th February)

Slip Of A Girl

By Friday L is germ ridden. We’re pretty sure it’s just a cold and not Coronavirus but am I going to have to take someone else to Berlin next weekend? They might not even let her into the country.

A cruise ship called the Diamond Princess has been quarantined off the coast of Yokohama in Japan after hundreds on board are infected. It is the largest outbreak of the virus outside of China.

On Friday evening I have a match as Derby play Fulham and then on Saturday it’s Parkrun. It will be my 99^th and the plan is... well firstly to find one that is still on by permission of Storm Dennis (or actually I think we might be on to Ellen now, not that I noticed a gap). There is a new Parkrun at Lichfield called Beacon but that seems to be off. Wollaton isn’t on because they are hosting the National Cross Country Championships, so we decide to play safe and go to Alvaston. 

After parkrun we do head to Wollaton Park to have a look at the Cross Country. This is hugely entertaining because the park is so waterlogged and muddy. Sections of the course are knee deep in water\mud and it makes for great spectating.

On Sunday I return to Prestwold Hall for RunThrough's Leicestershire Half Marathon. This is of course purely out of necessity and L joins me in the race as well, out of necessity. To be honest it doesn't seem quite as dull after doing it last year probably because I mow know what is coming and can mentally prepare for it.

The one thing that wasn’t quite so bad last year was the wind, which is really hard to run against this year but it’s very nice when it’s behind you and pushing you along. The effect of the wind is probably reflected in my time of almost 1:49, four minutes slower than last year.

Then we head to my Brother’s lad’s 18^th bithday meal at the Joiner's Arms in Quarndon. I don’t think I’ve been before but L says she’s been to a disco there when she was just a mere slip of a girl. Which is not that long ago obviously. It’s all food now, and they do have some decent beer, but sadly they don’t do a Sunday Lunch. The foods ok though. Everyone has massive ice cream sundaes for dessert and can’t manage them which means I end up trying to eat about four of them.

( Sunday 23^rd February)

Keep Washing Your Hands

They tell us to keep thoroughly washing our hands to avoid contracting the Coronavirus, now given the name COVID-19 by the WHO, which is all good advice and what we should be doing anyway. They also tell us not to touch our faces which isn’t so easy. I mean, have you tried putting in contact lenses without touching your face. Suddenly it takes far longer to get ready for work in the mornings.

Sainsbury's are late sending out my new visa card and have blocked my old card before the new one has arrived meaning I have to pay for today’s shopping on a different card. This loses me about 90 Nectar points or meagre 45p. I ring them up more to ask where the new card is rather than to complain about the lost points, although I do have a small whinge, and they credit my account with 18,000 points. That's about £90. So, it does pay to complain...massively.

I manage to cycle on Tuesday and it was hard work in the still strong winds but then I am so unfit at the moment.

L skips running club saying that she doesn’t want to be faffing around with doing intervals at the club now she’s a proper athlete and running from home will give her more hoover time even when it turns out to be 10k in the rain. I’ve never known anyone get so excited about a new hoover.

She's looking forward to a night on her own with her new gadget while the boys and I are at dog training. She's never this keen to get alone with me...

On Wednesday she is London for work, which is another icy morning. A day in London with her boss probably means another day of crap eating. He’s the one who bought her four crème eggs and a bar of dairy milk for lunch the other day. There’s none of your five a day in there and most of it makes its way home to me where it goes in my not-so-secret secret drawer. 

In the evening I meet up with a friend of mine after work. Instead of going to the pub, we meet at the Derby Winter Beer Festival at the Roundhouse.

On Thursday L does go to her club while I run from 14 miles from work. 

(Thursday 20^th February)

Character Building

On Friday they make a decision about Stamford and with Yellow Weather Warnings of winds forecast to be over 40mph they postpone the race to next week which rules us out. We have an 18th Birthday Party to attend, my brother’s lad, and we’ve also entered the Prestwold Half which is much nearer and an earlier start which means we can easily make the party.

We very briefly consider turning up on the day at the Naseby 1645, that I did last year, which they promise will be on but will be ‘character building’ in the forecasted strong winds and driving rain. Of course, we might turn up at Naseby and they cancel at the last minute.

L says she’d prefer to do her own thing on Saturday, as she did last week, and then have a

night on the lash, as we did last week.Which is fine by me, then we both spend Valentine’s Night in the gym but not the same one...

On Saturday we do the Wollaton Hall Parkrun which having dodged Ciara last week also seems Dennis proof and attracts 461 runners. Daughter joins us and runs with MD meaning we don’t have to cope with the conundrum of what to do with him. It is only five minutes’ walk from home but we can’t leave him home alone because he’ll howl in distress, so we’d have to drive over and pay to park the car just to keep him happy.

L does her 'own thing' by running an extra lap and then keeps running while Daughter and I check out the cafe. It’s good to see that the cafe is tuned into the potential to make money and opens at 9am rather than its usual 10am. It also now does breakfast baguettes before noon (don’t ask, I have no idea...).

Then I head off to the match. After which Radio Derby summariser Craig Ramage is sacked for singling out two of Derby’s black players for criticism.

L completes 14k, does Pilates, then head off for part two of her run, completing 16 miles in total. Very impressive. I am feeling totally upstaged by the two girls, L and her sister, who are all doing bigger distances than me in preparation for the Brighton Marathon.

So on Sunday I do my own training run and I run 15 miles with the Lad. Who I think gets more than he bargained for. We WhatsApp a few photos as we go, including one in front of the Robin Hood statue by the Castle where the Lad’s cuteness leaves not a dry eye among the assembled tourists who are waiting to take their own selfie in front of the statue. 

(Sunday 16^th February)

Hell Hath No Fury

Monday starts with some snow! Heavy snow! But then it’s gone and we have rain. Heavy rain.

L’s shopping list to me is (she says) long, expensive but healthy. Hash browns and curly fries are healthy? Who knew? And there’s something called FF on there but she can’t remember what that’s short for. We hope it's not vital and it sounds like some trendy brand of vodka. Then it comes to me, fish fingers!

It’s still cold and yesterday’s rain has now turned the pavements into ice rinks. I slither my way to the bus stop and only fall over once. For which I suppose I should have had a week off work and sued the council even though I’m fine.

It’s still windy too but I do my run. I manage 11k on what feels like an outdoor treadmill e.g. I didn’t seem to be moving much due to the wind.

Having lost one race last week to a moody Ciara, now we are faced with her handing the baton over to Dennis who is showing that ‘hell hath no fury like a’ man upstaged by a woman and it’s not looking very good for Sunday’s Stamford 30k at the moment. The trouble with races these days is you don't know whether you should be entering months in advance because they all seem to fill up almost instantly. Then when you do, they get cancelled.

An email pops into my inbox offering me tickets for the Ladies Final at Wimbledon through the ballot. They have finally moved into the last century with their ballot, scrapped the old paper form that you had to send in and now all you have had to do was click a box online. So I thought why not and now I have the offer of Ladies Final tickets for only £400. I think not and turn them down.

L’s sister gets a place in the Great North Run. L is gutted because she was hoping she’d be able to hand hers over to her sister but now she’ll have to run it as well.

On Wednesday L has PT and I have dogging. Then on Thursday I manage to cycle to work and without needing any lights which is an indication of how long it’s been since I last cycled.

(Thursday 13^th February)

A Nice Spot Of Tourism

L’s pool seems to have found a few customers from somewhere, mainly the tri club who she heard bragging about their events to each other. Not that she was impressed, she’s done most of them.

Clifton Bridge on the ring road near us is closed after damage was spotted on the underside of it. It is completely closed in one direction and has only has one lane open in the other direction. Not good and I can’t see any fast solution to this.

I take the bus to work on Friday, which went ok but coming back is another matter. The traffic is hell because of the closures. I’m not sure what time I’ll get home.

L meanwhile seems a bit impatient as she waits for me and is threatening to start Friday night without me. This is because her personal trainer has recommended that she starts foam rolling and she wants to give mine a try tonight. I’d hate to miss out on that.

Meanwhile the world is beginning to get worried about a new flu like virus, coronavirus, with has so far claimed over 800 lives in China. Our local GP surgery texts me today saying that if I’d ‘recently returned from China or South East Asia and are concerned that you may have a viral infection please DO NOT come down to the surgery’. As I said, worrying.

Saturday sees the start of a new Parkrun at Wollaton Hall which will be our new local but where are we? We’re at another new one at Doddington Hall near Lincoln, which is on its third week. We’re on the way to visit a old friend of mine who lives near Market Rasen. What with Warwick last week as well, that’s a nice spot of tourism. We’ll do our new local next week. 603 turned up for the inaugural one.

We were actually supposed to be running on Wollaton Park on Sunday but the Winter Warmer 10k has been postponed due to the arrival of Storm Ciara, a troublesome female if ever there was one. Ciara’s tantrum somewhat rips up the weekend’s planned schedule but it does mean we’re allowed out on Saturday night. We pub crawl Sneinton, visiting the Neon Rapter Brewery tap for one, then the Fox & Grapes for one, the King Billy for two and then visit Brewdog to finish off.

A freed up Sunday allows me to do a track session at the Velodrome.

(Sunday 9^th February)

Collision Point

The race results from Watford have been corrected of their own accord. The normal order of things in our household has now been restored.

The Golf’s dashboard has suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree with warning lights. So, when L goes over to see her folks she takes the bus, not wanting to go over in a dodgy car. There’s always the Astra I say. Oh, she did say she didn’t want to go over in a dodgy car didn’t she.

I go over later to pick her up because I wanted to give the Golf a run to see just how dodgy it was but somehow it fixes itself as those wise folks on Google said it probably would.

On Tuesday L’s watching Kinky Boots at Broadway while I’m watching football boots as Derby defeat Northampton in their FA Cup 4th Round Replay. I shunt my planned dog training session to Wednesday.

L has her PT on Wednesday where she signs a contract committing to 12 sessions. As she says, that’ll sort her out. After which, she manages to walk home unaided but she may not be lifting pints for a while.

Meanwhile L’s dentist convinces her to make the leap to an electric toothbrush. Mine has been trying to convince me to have one for years along with regularly seeing the hygienist, selling me floss and also those things you put on the end of your fingers. Sometimes I’m not sure if he’s a dentist or a salesman. He spends more time trying to sell me stuff than he does looking at my teeth.

...and while she’s on a spending spree, she’s looking at hoovers and asks ‘how does a girl go about getting a new hoover?’ How does a girl go about getting anything new, shiny and expensive out of her man? But it’s not PC to do that sort of thing any more, so she’d best just tell me what she wants and I’ll get it ordered.

...and Daughter is searching for a skipping rope. I remember once shopping for a skipping rope for her. It may have been a few years ago... I think she may have been eight.

On Thursday L and I do a joint run, sort of. I start running home from work while she starts running towards me from home. The plan is we’ll meet somewhere along the way. The planned collision point is the Charlton Arms in Chilwell. Not that we intend going in but it seems just about the right distance as she wants to do about 8 miles while I’m going for the Full Monty home which will be 15.6 miles. As planned, I bump into L just past the Charlton Arms 11 miles in and we make it all the way home together.

(Thursday 6^th February)

A Ceremonial Trimming

On Saturday we head over to the Parkrun at Warwick Racecourse on the way to visit Son in Leamington. We meet him and his fiancée for breakfast, this time at Coffee Architects which sounds a bit posh but aren’t all the cafes these days. Posh of course means there are no prices on their online menu.

It is conveniently two doors down from Misters Barbers which is the chosen venue for the ceremonial trimming of Son’s wayward beard, the first in living memory. It is indeed an historic day and it also seems to be a great success, even with Son, and the aim is now to get another trim in before his wedding at the end of next month.

Sunday sees us down south at the Watford Half Marathon which has a very civilised start time of 10.30am. Which is a good job really as it's quite a drive for us down to Watford.

It starts in Cassiobury Park which, given the recent weather, is a soggy mess and the first challenge is not starting the race with wet feet as we head to the Race HQ to pick our numbers up. Then it’s a paddle back to one of the two start lines. These are colour coded Red and Blue with the vague instruction that the Red one is for Veterans. Which I think means us.

The two starts are both on footpaths which merge together before the race leaves the park. Getting a good start position is key because the footpaths are narrow and the terrain either side of them is muddy and unrunnable. So putting a foot off the footpath to overtake was unwise and tended to see you sliding backwards rather than moving up through the field. This meant it was difficult for me to latch on to one of the pacemakers and I watched them gradually pulling away from me.

Once out of the park we headed out into suburbia where there was at least scope to overtake even if my desired pacemaker was now long gone. Then suburbia gave way to countryside where the real fun began. Now I thought Watford was a flat part of the country, how wrong was I.

The race guide merely stated that the course is through pleasant undulating countryside. Although it did go on to say that 'due to the severity of some of the hills this course is not suitable for wheelchairs'. Always read the small print as they say, even if you don't have a wheelchair. It was very hilly and just how hilly seemed to come as a surprise to many, not just me, given that the hills were accompanied by some colourful language (I mean encouraging words) from my fellow runners.

Even when you get back to the park for the final mile, it is largely all uphill. I finish in 1:48:45 marooned almost equally between the 1:45 and the 1:50 pacers. L and her sister come in together about 45 minutes behind me although according to the results, when they come out later, she beat me by about five minutes. Perhaps I missed the shortcut. 

(Sunday 2^nd February)