An Overstatement

Today the boys and I are at a new dog show, run by a new organisation called Whizz Dogs at a new venue of Ashover Showground in Derbyshire. Showground is a bit of an overstatement, it’s a field and a very rutted one at that.

Our first run is good until we messed up the weaves, which was probably a bit of both our faults. Then we had a tunnel problem in run two which MD can solely take the blame for. It sort of goes on like that. Four runs, no clears. We were close a few times but no cigar.

L returns to parkrunning this morning and actually runs rather than being a tailrunner, a  role that has now been renamed to reflect more what is involved. e.g. It now called ‘tailwalker’.

She finds out that after so many different parkruns you’re eligible for a buff. She only has 43, so is in need of a few more. 

They are not official but a company called Giraffe are selling them to anyone who is on their ‘Most Events’ table. I had no idea such a think existed.  

The ‘Most Events’ table shows those who have done more than 20 different parkruns and L is on it. Later we sort her out with one of the buffs which have cows on them, we know not why.

We have a night out in Canning Circus namely the Falcon, the Blue Monkey and the Borlase.

(Saturday 1^st July)

King Of The Mountains

L’s sister is in Nottingham for the Uni Open Day so L meets her for lunch at Lakeside, well more like brunch really or in fact just coffee. They are strong and resist cake for at least five minutes. 

Either her sister is skipping the provided University lunch or they’re not getting one. Personally I felt the quality of the lunch (or lack of it) along with the selection of biscuits was a vital factor in Uni selection. They had very good biscuits at Sheffield, I felt that that swung it.

I am off work today for the Tour of Britain cycling and after meeting the man who comes to check the new rendering is still on the walls etc, I head up into Derbyshire to watch the race. I end up in the middle of nowhere at the top of Beeley Moor KOM climb. It’s just the dogs and me, about 1000 others and three ice cream vans. I would be surprised is there isn't also a burger van lurking somewhere.

We see the leaders through and then wait an age for the main field, who have clearly given up on the day and are over 20 minutes back. Waiting for this inconsiderate bunch makes it a huge rush to get back to Nottingham to see the race a second time.

I eventually make it back to Wollaton Vale, which is mad, packed. If they're all here expecting an entourage of cars and lorries throwing bags of oven chips and the like as they did for the Tour de France I fear they may all be disappointed. If they're here to see Cav they'll also be disappointed, he fell off and quit this morning.

I’m in just enough time to grab a pint from the Hemlock Stone before the race arrives. L has headed to the finish at Forest Rec on the tram where she has a big screen but I have a pint of Caledonian Autumn Red. The Hemlock Stone itself seem oblivious to the huge crowds outside and are really missing several tricks e.g. income streams.

The race comes through, we wave and bark but the buggers still went the other side of the roundabout. We hang around to see the stragglers (again), now over 30 minutes back, and give Bradley a wave along with a chorus of 'hurry up you lazy b******' or words to that effect.

Then we head to the Borlase to meet L for a Tuck.

Watching the highlights on the TV later, the boys and I are on twice. That is if you're eagle-eyed and a whiz with the pause button.

(Friday 11^th September)

Derby 10k

Today is the Derby 10K which L is doing but I am merely supporting. The boys are supporting with me.

They have sent out the race t-shirts in advance this year, which isn’t something we approve of, unless you had a Derbyshire postcode in which case you had to go into collect it in advance. Which was a bit mean. We are probably closer than most but as we don’t have a Derbyshire postcode so they posted L’s. Generally though the organisation seems several steps up from the last time I ran the race.

The course has been changed slightly with an out and back now on Pride Park before the usual loop out to the city centre and back. My father is also supporting and initially we think we’ve missed L after not seeing her even when we thought the whole field had passed us. However they had split everyone into three batches and she came through in the second one. The boys give everyone a damn good howl as they passed. I tie them to the centre of a roundabout and try to forget about them.

Despite her recent (and current) injuries and illnesses she does a good time, clocking in at just over the hour. Roughly about the same time Steve McClaren crosses the line, along with the rest of the Derby County entourage. Only to find later that he must have been in a different start block.

We pop in at Aston to visit my Mum before heading home. Then later heading out to the Peacock, where as well as the usual Old Peculair they have a nice stout on as well. Rather than eat out we go home for a Chinese Takeaway and share it with the boys.

(Sunday 19^th April)

Down A Pot Hole In The Derwent Valley

Today I’m competing in the Derwent Duathlon which starts from the Fairholmes Visitor Centre in the Upper Derwent Valley, Derbyshire. It was bloody foggy as when we left Nottingham at stupid 0'clock but by the time we were up in the Peak District visibility was almost perfect.

This is a duathlon with a difference; the two run courses are very different. One is 4.5k of fell running, the other 6.5k of mainly road running. You have to do both but in which order is your own choice. As we start and hurtle down the hill to the decision point the field seems almost equally split on which one to do first. I go fell first, certainly not fancying climbing hills on tired legs.

The fell course is narrow and because the field is still tightly bunched a lot of walking is involved, which is fine with me. This I realise is not the best option if you wish to win. To win I guess you must do the road first, so that you then get a clear run at the fell section with the field more spread out.

My calves screamed at me on the uphill sections but thankfully they didn't give up the ghost and 26 minutes later I’m back in transition.

The bike course is hell, there's no other way of describing it because the road was riddled with pot holes. Big tip - don’t bring your best bike, like I had. The organiser had marked the biggest ones with cones but the unmarked ones were still capable of doing damage.

One pot hole knocked the ‘sender’ for my bike computer into my spokes and I had to stop to disentangle it. Then a road wide crevice appeared and although I lifted my front wheel over it, my back one hit it at speed causing my rear tyre to explode. So I had to stop and fix that.

Then once I was up and riding again I hit another one. This time something went on my back brake leaving it locked against my wheel rim. So I had to stop again, this time opting to disable the brake completely.

Finally I got lap one of two over, threw my punctured tube towards L and set off on lap two. I had thought of aborting at this point and going straight on to the run but this is supposed to be hard training after all. I just didn’t bank on this sort of hard.

I was well down the field but able to reel a few in. Thankfully by now I knew where all the pot holes were.

The road was also now full of walkers, other cyclists, families with kids, kids on bikes, kids on scooters and a group of mountain bikers coming straight towards me with no intention of giving way. This combined with the poor state of the road had already caused most competitors to back off and give up on racing hard, although I doubt the ones at the front did.

I got through it and went off on my road run, which was thankfully uneventful. It was also nice to see that the finish wasn’t back up the hill where the start and transition were. I crossed the line relieved and in 69th place of the 94 who finished. There were 9 DNFs.

It wasn't pleasant at times but was sort of good fun. It is potentially a great event and if the road is tarmaced by next year, as it is rumoured it should be, then it could be bike friendly too. The main thing today was to get some training miles in and that was certainly achieved.

Later at Quad in Derby, Scarlett Johansson is feeling a bit alien in Glasgow, which is understandable. We all do. Glasgow, although a place I like, is a bit like that. The thing is in this film by Jonathan Glazer from a novel by Michel Faber she really is an alien.

Johansson (as Laura the alien) roams the streets of the strange, unfamiliar world that is Glasgow in a white van. Occasionally she stops and asks men who are walking home alone (oh the irony) for directions, before offering to give them a lift. Once in the van she engages them in conversation and flirts with them before luring them back to her run down abode where, entranced by Johansson, they strip off their clothes while following her disrobing figure.

Yet they never reach their goal, her, as they disappear beneath her bedroom floor, where they remain trapped until they get their innards sucked out. Which are then presumably sent back to her home planet. Our alien is completely remorseless about her task and shows no empathy for her victims, who think it is their lucky day and they're going to get to shag Scarlett Johansson.

Later, out on the Scottish coast whilst in the process of seducing a surfer, she observes a dog adrift in the sea, a woman getting in trouble trying to rescue it, her husband getting in trouble trying to rescue her and the surfer getting in trouble trying to save anyone he can.

She attempts to save her target, the surfer, yet leaves the others and also ignores their abandoned young child who is left screaming on the beach, left to swallowed by the incoming tide. Our alien has no understanding of the situation.

In time though, she does seem to develop a morality about her actions. After seducing a disfigured man, she lets him escape and then attempts to escape herself. Running from the purpose she was sent here for and from the men on motorbikes who watch over her.

Whilst on the run in the countryside, she is befriended by a stranger. He still wants to get physical with her, of course, as does a worker in the forest, although in a more forceful manner. Suddenly the hunter has become the hunted.

It’s a bit off the wall at times and maybe having read the novel would have helped but I haven't. Yet I was just happy to go with it and embrace the fact that this alien girl (aren't they all) sinks her naked male suitors into the alien equivalent of a shagpile carpet.

Johansson is superb and brave to take on this type of role. She manages to exude a total lack of emotion throughout in such a way that, unbelievably, you kind of sympathise with her. 

For a post race/film debrief we end up in the Golden Eagle, where the Titan Brewery doesn't manage to come up with the dark Stouty goods this time. So we move to the Silk Mill, which certainly does.

(Sunday 30th March) 

Officially Falling Apart

After a wet trip up on Friday it’s stayed pretty much dry since. Although we’ve already had enough rain to make parking on the usual fields impossible. So we have to make a £4 donation to the National Trust to use their car park. It should have been more but we’ll take the risk that no one spots we’re going to overrun the two hour limit.

As usual its a 12 noon start for the traditional Great Langdale Christmas Pudding 10k. The new owners of the Sticklebarn - the National Trust, who annoyed us last time by changing the pub so much, now appear to have annoyed the race organisers as well. Consequently the race HQ is now at the adjacent New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. This also makes for a slightly changed course due to a new start and finish position.

Even then I start too far back, this is of course L’s fault as she told me to take it ‘steady’. So it’s a congested start and the first km takes me 6:35. Which is slightly misleading because the 1 km marker hasn't moved despite the new start beign further down the road. When I finally get my running legs together, I can start getting on with the task of overhauling Spiderman.

Once he’s been despatched I turn my attention to Wonder woman, who isn’t so easily dealt with and hangs like a carrot in front of me for the entire race. That is until near the end where she finds a finishing kick from somewhere. It comes from a place that I haven’t been informed about because I can’t find one and she edges further out of my range. Then just to complete my misery, who should sprint past me but bloody Spiderman. Woe is me.

The last km here is usually way shorter than a km and due to the repositioning of the finish, will be even shorter today. Only the marker doesn’t turn up at all, clearly it is now so close to the finish it’s not worth putting out at all.

My time is not good, 46 minutes something, my slowest Langdale ever, clearly my legs are now officially falling apart. I am handed my Derbyshire Mathew Walker Christmas pudding and a mince pie before heading back to the car to unleash the boys.

The rain holds off but for a shower in the middle of the race followed then by another shower at end after I’ve got changed and I’m wandering around looking for L who has sneaked across the line when I wasn’t looking. To be honest I was probably being pulled towards a wall for a long peeing session at the time.

There’s not the usual post-race crush in the Sticklebarn due to the race not being based there any more but it’s still busier than the New Dungeon Ghyll which simply does not have the room to be busy. The lack of space means they hold the presentation in the tent at the finish which detracts from the atmosphere a touch. We at least do frequent their bar for a swift one.

After which we start making tracks for home via an art gallery. This is not something I make a habit of. I certainly don't make a habit of buying things from art galleries and particularly not expensive things from art galleries. Naturally it has collies on it but clearly it’s not just my legs that are falling apart.

(Sunday 16th December)

7 Legged Pub Crawl

I’m in the car; L’s on the park battling the deer who are acting out a scene from West Side Story. Two rival factions eye-balling each other across the main footpath. She was probably right that MD, despite his best peacekeeping intentions, ought to be kept out of the way. She has such exciting park sessions, they’re never that good when I go.

To be fair, MD had already been upset by a cyclist with a flashing front light. I can sympathise, those flashing front lights upset me too.

Dog training tonight, in some paddy field in Derbyshire. It was very muddy under-paw and got worse as the night went on. There were several thrills and spills, all human ones.

L's been out running in Derby and shares the bus home with a bunch of student's doing the 7-legged pub crawl. Do they still do that? Cool. That dates way back to my days at Trent Polytechnic although it now seems to be the University Of Nottingham that is driving it. I'm also sure it was more than 7 back in the day... late 1980's. 16 springs to mind, I remember it being very unwieldy. The crawl got banned from most of the pubs and A&E. Perhaps 7 is better.

(Monday 22nd October)

The People’s Choice

It’s not particularly cold, although there is snow on the hills, but the winds are not as low as they could have been and the tent does take a seriously romantic battering from the elements. Still, we’re snug and dry inside it.

By mid morning things have calmed down and the weather turns out dry with little wind, just in time for the Great Langdale Christmas Pudding 10k which kicks off at noon. This is the self styled ‘people’s choice 10K winter run’, hmm maybe. L’s only here for the mileage, I’m only here for the beer but it has become a bit of a tradition.

There are as usual two races over two days with the Saturday proving more popular than the Sunday. Race organisers who run practically everything on a Sunday take note. Just under 300 today but nearly 430 yesterday.

They encourage entrants to dress in festive costumes and as I recall I got defeated by a green elf last time, although I was just coming back from injury. That’s my excuse. There’s no repeat today, as far as I know. There are plenty of Santas and even the odd pudding but I think they’re all behind me.

L looks very fetchingly festive in her red top, Santa hat and Christmassy ear rings. Something is missing though. Those little red skirts with the fur trim have a certain something... Perhaps I’ll get her one for Bolsover next week.

The course is the usual out and back along the valley road starting and finishing at the Sticklebarn pub. It’s not the greatest of runs for me, terrible actually. I was supposed to be taking it steady but not that steady. My time of over 44 minutes is two minutes slower than on this course in April but depressingly also slightly slower than two years ago when I was injured and ‘allowed’ to take to easy. I’m a massive four minutes off what I did in 2008, when I was a youngster obviously but we won’t talk about that. Good job half marathons are where it’s now at. I hope.

Every finisher gets a Christmas pudding, this year from Mathew Walker which is a big step up from the usual Asda/Tesco ones. It’s still a bit odd though, us coming up to Cumbria to collect a pudding made in Derbyshire, near from whence we came. I’m sure they could source some Cumbrian ones if they really wanted to.

L is slower too but at least she’s got the excuse of coughing and spluttering her way around.

The queue for refreshments is a bit huge at the Sticklebarn, so we head to Chapel Stile and the Wainwrights instead to sample a new Hawkshead dark beer which is disappointing and the hot lamb cobs, which aren’t.

The problem with camping is we don’t have a hot bath to rest our weary legs in post-race and have to chill out in the tent instead.

We have tomorrow off work so that we can toast our disappointing times this evening, which we do in the Old Dungeon Ghyll, which is surprisingly busy for a Sunday night in mid December.

So which is better Snecklifter or Old Peculiar? L and I can never agree, so we have to go through the rigmarole of sampling both, again. This happens every time. It’s still inconclusive. L says OP, I say Snecklifter. So we’ll just have to do it all over again at New Year.

(Sunday 11th December)

Looking For Positives

A dog show in Osmaston today, which is near Ashbourne in Derbyshire. A nice location and probably the best, flattest surface we ever get to compete on.

The old man kicks things off with a nice steady clear round and goes into 5th place. With rosettes down to 8th we might even get one. We don’t, he gets pushed down to 12th but not bad for starters.

Now to unleash the pocket rocket onto an unsuspecting public. On a tricky first course (for grades 3-5) he has a pole down and misses his weave entry but it’s a promising start. I really fancy our chances on course two, a lower level grade 1-3 course with only 14 obstacles. I didn’t think only 14 obstacles was legal and nor did many other people, so the judge gets his rule book out to show us that anything for 10 to 20 is allowed. Game on. It’s very straight and should be very quick but MD does quick quite well. I tell him I expect a rosette, if not a trophy, so to keep his paws up and not to knock any poles. Yeah yeah he mutters, whatever. He’s such a teenager.

I concentrate on getting the trickier mid section right, only we don’t get there. MD tries to miss out jump number four. Why? We are so not speaking. Still he kept all the poles up. I'm looking for positives here.

Perhaps our luck will be in on run three. We are quick, fourth fastest. It’s just a shame about that pole he clipped. Back to the drawing board. Again.

Doggo saves the day with another solid run and 11th place. Unfortunately, again just not quite good enough for a rosette.

(Saturday 11th June)