Seriously Undulating

Today we are at Calke Abbey for Jack Rabbit Events’ 10k. We pick my Mum and Dad up on the way and the dogs are along to support as well. Then, after we’ve picked up our race numbers, is the five minute walk uphill to the start.

The race then starts on a downhill stretch which means of course that what goes down must come back up, which of course it does and this pretty much sets the tone for the whole course. The word 'undulating' just doesn't adequately describe it. So definitely not a PB course nor one that is kind on anyone with dodgy calves (like me).

The route then circumnavigates Staunton Harold Reservoir, sticking to the main road and touching on Melbourne, before returning to Ticknall and back into the Calke Abbey estate. The last couple of miles is through Calke Abbey's grounds which no doubt some folk will tell you is scenic and I suppose it is but it's also along a long straight rather dull tarmac driveway which is also quite busy with traffic.

My time of 47 minutes reflects the undulating nature of the course. Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. At the finish we get a nice big medal (if you like medals) but no t-shirt. Overall though, not a bad race and very well organised.

I bump into a dog club person whose Son has won the race and his brother came 10^th. Well that put me in my place.

We then head off to the café with my Mum and Dad for liquid refreshments. Non-alcoholic of course, that can wait until later when we will pub crawl Canning Circus taking in the Falcon, the Blue Monkey and the Borlase. It’s our first time in the Falcon for ages and they produce the drink of the night in Abbeydale’s Born To Be Wild. All that comes after a relaxing Friday night come Sunday afternoon. 

(Sunday 18^th September)

Studently

Today I can be studently with L and lounge in bed. Meanwhile our Sheffield student has to go to work, ha ha, and much to her disgust, dressed in black.

Well actually, I get up at 10am and lounge studently in front of the live cycling. Omnium Gold for Laura Trott. Medals too for Jason Kenny and Chris Hoy in the Sprint but neither of them gold. Kenny’s beating of Hoy in the semi-finals looked decisive enough to me to deny Hoy getting the Olympics gig in the sprint but then what do I know. Then it was that man Ben Swift again with a hard-earned silver in the Points race.

Eventually I take the boys on the park and then head off to the match, which is a very typical end of season style 0-0 draw. Then I head straight up to Sheffield by train. It’s only 30 minutes by train from Derby, which is a lot quicker than driving. Yet the train takes almost an hour from Nottingham.

I meet L outside Sheffield station, where she is sat with Daughter’s huge bag, full mainly of books, wrapped around the middle with packing tape. Running repairs have clearly been required. Somehow L has managed to get it from home onto the train.

We embark on a joint baggage pull and wheel it the half a mile or so to Daughter’s flat. It doesn’t quite make it, one of the wheels collapses before we get there, but we drag it against its will the rest of the way.

Daughter has, by the time we get there, crawled home from work. Not that it's far, it’s only really across the road from her. She's had the ‘day from hell’. Apparently they’ve had her scrubbing walls. Ah good, I’ve always been in favour of hard labour for teenagers. She glosses over the good bits of her day. Bar work, waitressing etc.

As she sits in front of her TV, half asleep, in her PJs. Well actually L’s PJs, clearly recently half-hinched from home. It doesn’t look like she’ll be moving anywhere any time soon. What happened to her night out on the town with us?

So we set out on our Sheffield pub crawl without her. First stop the Devonshire Cat, which is very good. Plenty of real ales, their own extensive foreign beer menu and some decent food.

We could have stayed all night but we move on to nearby Henrys. The name didn't really inspire and despite a promising range of ale, we’re not that impressed with the place. Next, the Old House, which is a very nice place with again a good mix of British and Foreign beers. They refuse to serve L a Westmalle Belgian ale in anything but its correct glass, so we wait whilst they fetch fresh glassware from the storeroom. Nice touch. The wrong glass syndrome is something that does annoy us a lot in Nottingham.

Finally we move closer to the station to ensure we don’t miss our train home. There’s no chance of that with the Sheffield Tap being on the actual platform. It’s effectively a remote Brewery Tap for the Thornbridge Brewery. Enough said. Oddly L doesn’t have Jaipur but there are plenty of other beers of theirs (and from other breweries) to choose from.

(Saturday 7th April)

Easier Than Getting Olympic Tickets

I abandon the idea of biking today due to the heavy rain, the gales and the increasing occurrence of snow showers. There are light coverings in various places around here but some cars are driving around with a couple of inches on them. Up in Scotland Cairngorm and Lecht have reopened for skiing.

Once the snow passes over our back garden begins to resemble a lake, albeit a very muddy one. It all brings back ‘fond’ memories me of the Milton Keynes Half Marathon. Thankfully we have a nice cosy barn in which to shelter for our dog training tonight. Hmmm. I’ll pack an extra jumper.

Instead of biking, I take L’s bike in for a service.

It’s the first day of the Track Cycling World Championships today from Melbourne, Australia. As usual the BBC coverage is mixed. Excellent live coverage on the red button and over the internet but rubbish highlights.

There's a sort of unexpected but brilliant Team Pursuit gold for the men, I really didn’t think we’d beat the Aussies but they did, twice. They qualified fastest and then went on to break the world record against them in the final.

Even more unexpected was the Scratch Race gold for Ben Swift. A man left out of the Pursuit Team getting his just rewards.

Disappointment in the Team Sprints though. The women, who broke the World Record a month a go, came in fourth but the men looked promising with a German, the repatriated Philip Hindes, on the first leg despite getting disqualified.

I propose to L that we head to Minsk next year, as they’ve just awarded the 2013 Championships to Belarus. Belarus is Europe’s last remaining dictatorship, so it could be an interesting trip, if we can get a Visa. Still, it’s got to be easier than getting Olympic tickets.

(Wednesday 4th April)