Another Red Blob

The yapping loose cannon and myself are at a more slippery than usual dog training tonight. To be fair he’s a very focussed cannon when he’s training, although still quite yappy.

L meanwhile is out in Derby, not running again. Tut tut. So that’s another red blob then on her new online training plan for the Manchester 10k.

She’s also set herself the challenge of 50 parkruns, so just 44 to go.

(Monday 10^th November)

Capitulation Was Inevitable

The deed has been done. The entry is in. I told L to wait until nearer the time but it just couldn’t be done. Once they’d sent one of those psychologically disturbing emails saying entries were still open ‘for a short while longer’, capitulation was inevitable. We know they’re lying because they’re always lying but there’s always that nagging suspicion that one day they may actually be telling the truth. Anyway the Manchester run has been entered.

Cue a torrent of ‘OMG’ and ‘what have I done’ type texts from Daughter. The sort of ones I normally get from L.

I now need to start practicing my best ever, most tactful ever, most encouraging, cheerleading.  One wrong word could end up in a torrent of abuse, if either of them can talk.

Today is spent on the park and doing a little DIY. Only a very little for me but I let L paint and plaster to her hearts content.

(Sunday 9^th November)

On A Saturday

This morning L utters words that have remained unuttered for some time. I think I might do a Parkrun. Yes, one of those things with an inhuman 9am start, on a Saturday.

I was going to have to be up early to exercise the dogs anyway, as Derby have an equally inhuman 12:15 kick off today, on a Saturday. Thanks Sky. So I might as will do the proverbial kill two birds with one stone and exercise two dogs with, well, two balls actually.

So I chauffeur L to a new parkrun in Beeston and lob a few balls as I watch. At one point Doggo threatens to join in the run, that is until his lumbago kicks in.

At the match, Derby hammer Wolves 5-0 and move back to the top of the table. Where they then stay as no one in the afternoon games pick up enough points to displace them. One pint for every goal as way of celebration I think tonight.

This is what I envisaged when I travelled to Wembley hoping (secretly) for play off defeat. Feels good now, well worth it.

We head into Nottingham later. The Borlase, the Falcon with no Tuck but another Porter instead, and then the Organ Grinder

(Saturday 8^th November)

Jennifer Lawrence For The Night

It’s lobbing it down this morning and I opt to leave my trusty steed at home. e.g. I wimp out of cycling. That’s not going to look good on the training schedule and an horrifically hour long wait for a bus home from Derby actually makes me wish I had cycled in the rain. In fact I'd rather be at home chucking balls than stuck here.

L tries to console me by offering me Jennifer Lawrence for the night. We have Winter's Bone to watch. She says the book is nice and depressing, so it should be right up my street.

Then she forwards me a lengthy email exchange between her and Daughter. It finishes with the words ‘I’ve printed off a sodding training plan’. Blimey, L’s offered to enter her in the Manchester 10k as a 'treat'. She’s also told her it’ll take her an hour. Wow. Nothing like setting the bar high. Way to go girls.

Winter's Bone is depressing, very atmospheric and requires your undivided attention, so we shouldn’t really have been munching our way through a meal as we watched it. Winter’s Bone is also accompanied by a large dose of Dog’s Rubber Bone, as is most things we try and watch on TV. Definitely one for the cinema I think.

 

(Friday 7^th November)

That Weekend Really Didn’t Seem Very Long Did It

On the bike and today the temperature dips below zero. It’s not quite chipping your fingers off the handlebars cold but I did wish I’d put my thermal booties on to keep my toes warm.

Despite the chill, it was a glorious morning. I hope it stays this way for the rest of the winter, much better than that rubbish they call summer.

As its Monday it must be squash, that weekend really didn’t seem very long did it, or perhaps they’ve actually booked us in on the right day this time.

Despite a bad knee (again), I give it a go. Amazingly I almost win and have five match points to win 3-2, all of which he saves and finally beats me. For once, I'm actually disappointed.

(Thursday 6^th November)

Another Bloody Collie

An excellent morning so far, my legs fair flew round on the bike this morning but then they had to as I was well late. Still can’t walk though.

L does a fitness session known as aerobics. I didn’t think they still did such things and they resisted the urge to call it Body Kombat or something misspelt.

Our far reaching net to bring in new members into the dog club today snares a policewoman. We do get all types. Surprisingly she doesn’t have a German Shepherd and instead the club recruits yet another bloody collie.

(Wednesday 5^th November)

Misdemeanours

There’s a match tonight and I would ordinarily have taken the opportunity to park at the my parents’ place and run the five miles into work. Sadly I’m not capable after Sunday’s misdemeanours around Derwent Water.

At the match, Derby bounce back from a couple of defeats and beat Huddersfield 3-2.

I come home to find L daubing mud coloured paint on the walls. It’s a good idea having paint that masks the presence of dog but personally I think possibly something a bit lighter, perhaps something more grit coloured might look better?

Doggo looks like he's been helping, his tail is well plastered.

(Tuesday 4^th November)

Fired Up

The knee is trashed again after Sunday’s run. Why the knee and not the calf? I do not understand my own body.

Tonight a rather expensive brush and polish at the dentist, then dog training with a very fired up, hyped up MD. I suppose spending most of yesterday in the car has upped his energy reserves. It seems to have had little effect on Doggo’s though.

(Monday 3^rd November)

Scenic, If You Like That Sort Of Thing

I sit awake for quite a lot of the night feeling rather smug and admiring our excellent new tent. This is only its second outing and the Lake District is throwing its speciality at it, namely torrential rain and close to gale force winds, yet our new purchase is barely noticing. Everyone else is fast sleep asleep, oblivious. So it must be good.

A couple of weeks ago L dangled the Derwent Water 10 in front of me. I was tempted, if my leg was up to it. I guess there’s only one way to find out. The rain even stops and the wind drops. It's just me though, L isn’t doing it although she does do her own run beforehand then takes up supporting duties with the dogs.

Starting from Keswick, the runs takes a scenic clockwise lap around around Derwent Water. First off there’s half a mile or so along the pedestrianized centre of Keswick causing many shoppers to dive into shop doorways to get out of the way of the oncoming stampede.

Then we’re out on to the roads where the tourists get even more frustrated as the race causes a massive traffic jam. After a few miles though we’re onto the more minor roads around the lake and the problem moves on from the continuous impatient traffic to the continuous upwards trajectory of miles 6 and 7. Luckily the course does go down as well as up and I suppose it’s all very pretty. If you like that sort of thing.

My legs feel ok aside from a huge blister on my left foot which makes the last two miles agony but in a sadistic sort of way, it was all excellent.

I limp home in 1:22:17, which isn’t great but when compared with my last 10 miler in May at Burton starts to look a bit better. I beat that time by over a minutes... somehow.

It’s a no-frills run but not at a particularly no-frills price. There were no t-shirts/medals/ mementos and I didn’t even get a cup of water at the end. Water supplies at the finish totally ran out and apparently the kitchens at the school where the race started were closed, so they couldn't get any more.

Timing was done by a Parkrun style system with bar codes and seemed to work well enough.

L scrapes me up and drives me home via Sunday Lunch in the Watermill at Ings. We also take a detour down the M61/M60 and end up on Daughter’s doorstep. We even bring the coffee so that she can makes us a drink.

(Sunday 2^nd November)

Decent Crumpet

We partake in our usual amble along the Langdale Valley which I think will be more than enough for the old man, Doggo. I forget about the two huge stiles we’re going to have to lift both the dogs over. 

After a three mile amble to Elterwater we consider refreshments at the Britannia, which as usual is a no go. Absolutely rammed full of tourists. There is a new café opposite it though based in the old post office, which not only has plenty of space, it accepts muddy dogs and serves a mean crumpet.

Refreshed we amble onwards to the Wainwrights in Chapel Stile for a slightly below bar Snecklifter. So we head back towards base camp and head into the Sticklebarn, not really hoping for much because the place hasn’t been any good for a few years now. Tonight though, it has not one but two good beers. Coniston Old Man which is good and Scary Man from Long Man which is even better. Bit of a ‘man’ theme going on here. Although had I known that Long Man was all the way from Sussex I might have been less keen. For the first time in years we stay all evening and eat there. Food was decent too.

It’s raining again as we head back to camp, so it’s not looking too good for tomorrows ten miler.

(Saturday 1^st November)