Film Geeks

Saturday sees us make a return to Forest Rec for a parkrun where the Lad and I set a new PB for Forest Rec but its nearly a minute off our blistering pace of three days ago.

In the evening we stay in albeit with my tub of Hobgoblin that I got for Christmas from my Brother. I’m good and only have one pint which has less to do with Sunday’s run as to do with beer overload due to Christmas falling midweek.

It's always good to get in a run between Christmas and New Year, so on Sunday we return to the Gerald Storey Memorial which starts at Worksop College.

We did this last year for the first time and somehow I manage to shave nearly two minutes off last year’s time, taking 36:00 dead for the 4.8 miles despite not being able to do it aided by dog power and it being on the dreaded 'mixed terrain'.

It's not an event to get particularly excited about but it's a useful training run and all in aid of a good cause.

In the evening, we are at the cinema to see what is apparently the 7^th film adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women and like the previous six it isn’t a film for which I am anywhere near the target audience. Also, for me, doing Little Women yet again demonstrates exactly why cinema is often so dull at the moment e.g. endless repetitions of the same thing. If it’s not that it’s sequels... and/or the constant overuse of the same actors and actresses e.g. here we are again getting to watch the terrifically competent Saoirse Ronan.

Clearly studios think we don’t want originality and sadly they may be right judging by how packed it is in Broadway tonight. Not that they seem to enjoy it very much. The moment the end credits roll everyone silently disappeared without a word to anyone. No interest in the cast list, the music, the locations (ok, clearly we’re both film geeks) and no debate about the film unless they’re all rushing to the pub to do it. We start our debrief in the cinema and carry it on later in the bar.

Do you need to know the plot? Because it’s fair to say there are very few surprises. Despite this version by Greta Gerwig being a ‘modern’ version it’s still about a group of sisters whose lives revolve around getting themselves married off while ditching any career aspirations they may have had along the way. 

It is true that they now make it abundantly clear that this is their own personal economic decision and they have licence to slap away any suitor’s attentions particularly if they’re called Laurie (Timothée Chalamet) while proclaiming they’d rather ‘write’ or ‘paint’ or something else rather than get married before giving everything up to get married.

So the artist (Florence Pugh as Amy) doesn’t become an artist, the musician (Eliza Scanlen as Beth), or was it an actress, doesn’t become a musician and the author (Saoirse Ronan as Jo) only becomes an author by writing about the artist not becoming an artist, the musician not becoming a musician and the author changing the ending so that she too gets married. It is true that the housewife (Emma Watson as Meg) gets everything she wants.

The other thing is the flashback scenes... I know it’s not cool these days to make a movie that is linear but the flashbacks were quite ridiculous as they basically involved the same cast dressing slightly differently, tying their hair back and giggling a lot more. At times it was incredibly difficult to work out which period of their lives we were in. One moment we’re at Beth's funeral and then the next we’re at Meg's wedding where Beth is in attendance.

All I can say is thank heavens for Florence Pugh, who I could watch all day long.

At the end my partner confesses she was fighting back a tear or two. Of frustration I assume.

Roll on version eight.

(Sunday 29^th December)

Three In Three

Doggo’s legs survive a second park session in two days and we survive a third meal in three days.

L’s sister is in the area and she arranges a family gathering at the King’s Highway in Derby. The place is better than expected, does a decent carvery and serves Hobgoblin. So a decent night then.

(Sunday 20^th April)

A (Slight) Sting In The Tail

We head to Congleton via my parents house, to collect my Dad who does like a 7am start. We take him to all the glitzy places and today’s its Congleton’s turn.

Now I’ve had a bad knee all week, well longer actually, so I’m not at all sure how this is going to pan out. I intend to start slow and not build up to a faster pace.

As is now the norm, someone with an Olympic torch helps start the race. Then as we leave the start at the High School, we find the first few miles to be a bit hectic, very busy and we all end up crammed on a pavement next to a busy main road. It was a bit like the ark, two by two, as the field hadn't had chance to thin out by then. Although I suppose this did it. There was the grass verge but I didn’t want to get my trainers muddy and I think everyone else thought the same, so congested it stayed.

Then across a busy roundabout heading into a supermarket before we finally quit the built up area. Thereafter it’s mainly country lanes, villages and plenty of room to run or hobble. Where I’m sure the view would have been really pleasant, if it wasn’t for some high hedges and a covering of low lying mist that didn’t lift. Actually perfect conditions for running, just not for sightseeing and despite a few undulations it seemed a fairly fast course. Not that dissimilar to Ipswich the other week, in fact that was probably hillier.

The race is chip timed and well marshalled. The drinks were in cups but for once I didn’t mind easing down to walk to drink from them, to give the knee a rest. All the drinks stations also advertised sponges, but they proved elusive, I never saw one. There was an extra drinks stop, set up outside the Black Swan and I eased up, just in case... but it was only soft drinks.

The race is called the 'Sting In The Tail' which is because, on the map at least, there was a huge dip, or may crevasse is a better word, at 12 miles, that you would think you’d need full climbing gear to get out of. Ahh, the wonders of map scales. The dip was not that severe. I didn't have to crawl.

L is racing too, she’s chosen the Quarter Marathon option, which I think is a first. At only £6 it’s bargain. Although she doesn’t get the t-shirt, which was a bit dull anyway, to be honest. Instead she gets a teddy bear and a much better goodie bag than me. There’s not much in mine at all.

I queue up for a massage but it’s not looking like a proper leg breaking sports massage, just two women playing patter cake on peoples’ legs. Which is always welcome but not worth queuing half an hour for, so I go to join L and my father in the cafe.

We head back to my parent’s place and collect my Mum before heading to the Canal Warehouse in Shardlow, where it turns out they serve a poor Sunday lunch but some excellent Hobgoblin.

After a bit of late afternoon R&R we decide to check out a beer festival that is happening at one of our local pubs, the Admiral Rodney. It’s nothing to get too excited about but they do have Otter Ale and that takes us back to many happy days spent in Devon. The pub are offering a discount for us Camra members and a loyalty card scheme, which is rather poor as you’re only allowed one stamp per day, rather than one per pint as is the norm with these things and it’s only valid for the fortnight of the festival as well. So not much of an incentive to revisit.

Back home, the knee is throbbing again and I rip open a sachet of jointeeze or something, which was one of the things in my goodie bag. L and the dogs immediately start choking from the aroma of the stuff and Doggo even momentarily gets off the bed. It’s all in a good cause guys, my dodgy knee, as is the Savlon for other areas that have taken a bit of chaffing.

(Sunday 7th October)

A Game Of Two Doors

We sleep well. It must have been the Hobgoblin. Then we’re up at 6.30 and off to the airport. The car park won't recognise my booking but it's soon sorted. Check-in goes smoothly too, which is a rarity. The security queue doesn’t and takes ages.

The security checks are an entertaining game of two doors. The ‘right’ door opens for me. The left one, which is the wrong one, opens for L and she has to dance in front of a shape painted on the wall and take her shoes off. I'm sure they're just having a laugh at her expense.

The flight is a little late but the pilot makes up time. Hitting the ground way too fast in my uninformed opinion. Car hire goes smoothly despite being served by a lass with a 'I am new' name badge stuck to her chest. That’s kind of cruel but at least she gives me a Golf. A proper one. Not an estate, not an automatic, not even a diesel. I never ever get the car I ask for.

It even has a key rather than a lump of plastic to start it. I still can't start it though and it angrily flashes something in German at me via the dashboard. Ah, hang on a sec, I remember now. De-clutch before you turn the key. Vroom. Off we go. To Liechtenstein and then Switzerland.

(Friday 9th March)

A Double Crossing

Apparently there’s snow in Sheffield, so Daughter will be pleased. Not.

There’s none here of course and it’s good to see that for once the schools haven’t been closed and the buses cancelled as a precaution.

L is working from home again, mixing Christmas puddings, writing Christmas cards etc etc. Presumably kicking balls too? Apparently not, as they are both asleep. Typical. I would be kicking balls if I was there. They always feel as if they have to exercise me.

But were they really both asleep? Apparently ‘my’ dog has stolen some bread off the worktop. Oh dear. MD appears to have double-crossed L by pretending to be asleep in his basket. He's smart that one. No wonder he left Doggo locked in the spare room yesterday, just in case someone had left any bread lying around. He obviously didn't want to share.

She’ll have to dock this morning's misdemeanour from his morning toast allowance.

We venture to Beechdale for squash tonight. I’ve not played there for at least ten years. What a tip, now I can see why. Obviously it affects my game.

Afterwards we go for a drink in one of our locals, one that I don’t usually go in. In fact the last time I was in here was last century. The place is your typical sort of estate pub but one that’s still looking for an estate to belong to as it’s marooned on the roundabout on Nottingham’s ring road.

It’s very local free tonight; in fact it’s almost totally people free. We go in, fully expecting to be confronted with the dreaded John Smiths smooth but instead we are faced with three real ales, one of which is Hobgoblin on top form. It also isn’t ruined by a barmaid who is pulling for the first time but is keen. We have to assist her. She also can’t work the till and for a moment it looks like we could be on for a freebie and she for the sack, until a barman turns up to show her how.

(Thursday 15th December)

Dr Google

I could have cycled today but I decide to give the rib injury another day to settle. Dr Google hasn’t been very encouraging, suggesting a week is nowhere near enough recovery time. However the cycling and running forums seem to have better advice. Most cyclists seem to be back on the bike within three days, most runners are back out doing gentle running within a week, whereas everyone else is pretty much off work for a month... hmmm, but that’s society for you.

L’s threatening to throw herself in the canal, or the Sainsbury's chocolate aisle, work related stress I assume. Always looking for the positive, I recommend the canal. It sounds like a training opportunity to me and it’s got to be lower in calories.

Talking of calories... pizza tonight, way too much pizza as it happens. Not helped by the fact that Pizza Hut are now doing ‘free’ salad and I can’t say no to that, as obviously I’ve paid for it in the increased pizza prices. At least it will temper the unhealthiness of everything else but I’m stuffed now. Somehow I manage to squeeze a couple of pints of Hobgoblin in around the edges.

I get home to find that my PVR hasn't recorded today’s cycling despite the fact I’ve got the whole three weeks on ‘series link’ and it’s worked for the first ten days. Bloody technology. Yesterday’s rest day seems to have upset it. So it's the internet highlights tonight then instead.

(Tuesday 12th July)

You Can Never Have Too Many Mugs

It's the ‘kind of’ traditional Easter 10K on Wollaton Park today. Well I’ve done it twice before and couldn’t really think of a reason not to this year. Any kids who do the fun run get an Easter egg, sadly the 10k-ers don’t. Just the usual mug... for the mugs. Well, I need a new mug... you can never have too many mugs. Maybe.

L decides we’ll supply our own Easter eggs this year and gets two Cadbury's crème eggs (but not massive ones - see yesterday) to award ourselves afterwards.

It’s a bit on the warm side and there’s no water stop, which I think is a bit mean. So I’m blaming the heat for again being around twenty seconds slower than the previous year.



I walk back up the course to support L. Well I walk to the top of the biggest hill, always a good vantage point to see everyone suffer. The council clearly share my delight in revelling in the runners difficulties because, rather than wait, oooh another ten minutes or so, they decide to drive one of their lorries up the hardest part of the course and just as the main body of runners are coming in. Then just for good measure they stop at their destination before trying to reverse over a few of them. Nice one. Idiots.

Unlike I, who runs his slowest Easter 10k, L runs her quickest.

As it’s a nice day and it’s nearly my birthday, my parents have turned up to support and afterwards we adjourn to the Willoughby/Wollaton pub. Where it’s nice enough to sit outside, sip Hobgoblin and have an early birthday lunch. I fetch the dogs to join us and even Son and Daughter indulge us with their presence. The lure of roast lamb with all the trimmings can have this effect.

After not having had an Easter egg for years, I now have two. My folks get me one for my birthday. All that whinging has finally paid off.

I get back home to catch most of a very good game as Derby play at Norwich. 2-2 seems a fair result until they grab the winner in the 6th minute of second half injury time. Grrrr.

(Monday 25th April)