Desperate Measures

I swap this week’s dog training session to Tuesday due to there being a match on Wednesday, which turns out to be a disappointing 0-0 draw with Stoke City.

I take L over to training with me, picking her up from her PT and depositing her with her folks then meeting her later in the Masons. The first time we’ve been in there for ages.

It must have been a good session for both of the dogs because neither of them move on Dog TV all morning. That in itself isn’t unusual but MD hanging on to the ‘best bed’ all morning certainly is.

On Thursday I do shorter run than usual with Sunday’s Notts 20 Miler in mind. I run to Stapleford for a change then get the i4 bus home. I was concerned about the wind which had been so fierce that I could barely stand up in it at lunchtime but at least it's not raining. In the end the run turns out to be wind assisted rather than into the wind.

By Friday, my friend the Leeds supporter is getting ready for a nerve wracking weekend in the Championship promotion race. Leeds are battling for automatic promotion with Sheffield United who they meet this weekend.

He says desperate times call for desperate measures and his friend will be concentrating on doing the washing up to take his mind off the game. For the entire 90 minutes plus stoppages and half time? Desperate measures indeed.

Derby meanwhile are merely flirting with the outer reaches of the play off zone. Although not this weekend as they don’t have a game and have in fact a 17 day gap from Wednesday’s bore draw with Stoke until they next play.

(Friday 15^th March)

Somewhere Exotic

After the exotic Sherwood Pines on Saturday, on Sunday I continue my marathon training with the equally exotic Retford Half Marathon. I’ve done this one before and it’s not that exciting but I need the distance.

L gets the short straw of supporting with the dogs. She doesn’t fancy running exotic Retford but is apparently dreaming of doing a Tough Mudder as we are possibly the only people on the planet who don't yet have a Tough Mudder t-shirt. Personally, I’m not sure I want one either but then I also wouldn’t be keen on paying the £10 charge to spectate. Yes really, I’ve never seen that before.

Aside from Tough Mudder she adds Dublin and Sofia to our Bucket List of must do foreign races. Adding to the likes of Copenhagen, Malmo, Krakow, Berlin, Tallinn, Riga, Amsterdam, Bauhaus and Hitchin.

My time at Retford of exactly 1:45 is four minutes up on my time there three years ago. So perhaps the training is paying off. As an added bonus this year's t-shirt isn't orange like last time and is actually quite nice. 

(Sunday 10^th March)

Troll RomCom

L has been remarking how lacking her World War II knowledge is. She says that her colleague at work watches all 26 episodes of the World at War at least every other year, which is perhaps a bit excessive but we start looking for a copy. I pop into Argos who have the box set for £15. This will change the dynamic of Friday night’s somewhat. L promises to try to stay awake. 

The brief for Saturday is to Parkrun somewhere exotic. Unfortunately Warsaw is going to be a bit hard to beat and we go to Sherwood Pines. The Lad and I come 21^st in a time of 22:16. Not bad but I feel he’s disappointed with me.

On Saturday afternoon there’s a match and then in the evening we are at Broadway.

Border is the story of Tina (Eva Melander), a customs officer on the Finland-Sweden border. She suffers from deformities which she refers to as a ‘chromosome flaw’ but she has the ability to smell guilt which comes in extremely useful in her job. When she smells something amiss the suspect is pulled over and searched. Tina is always right. When she intercepts a man carrying child pornography, she is invited to join the police task force investigating a paedophile ring which has implications later in the film.

She lives with her boyfriend Roland (Jörgen Thorsson) who she is unable to have sex with because it hurts her too much but, anyway, Roland seems to care more about his pet dogs than he does her. Every so often, she visits her elderly father (Sten Ljunggren) who is in an old people’s home. It appears her father is hiding something about Tina’s past.

One day at the border, Tina encounters a character who looks a lot like herself. His name is Vore (Eero Milonoff) and he travels with a bag of maggots in his hand luggage. As you do. Unlike Tina, Vore is confident and charismatic. When Tina can’t quite decide what she smells amiss about him, he arrogantly volunteers to be searched anyway. During which her male colleague discovers that Vore doesn't have the body of a man. He also has a large scar on his back, just like she has.

She finds him intriguing and exciting, so inevitably they are drawn together. She lets him stay in her house, much to Roland's annoyance. Vore tells her that it’s perfectly ok to eat insects if she wants to because she is a troll just like him. Then they have the most bizarre sex you’ll ever see.

So it’s a Troll RomCom with a happy ending? Not quite. The next day Tina finds a baby inside Vore’s fridge. As you do. No, not a baby he protests. It’s a Hiisit, an unfertilized troll embryo, that he is going to swap with a real human baby. Of course…

Which brings us back to the paedophile ring, with whom Vore has been dealing and which brings us to the film’s very morally susceptible ending. 

It was looking to me as if the film was trying to portray Tina and Vore as more humane than the humans, through the use of the paedophile ring subplot, but now I’m not so sure.

The film is based on a story by John Ajvide Lindqvist, who wrote the almost as weird ‘Let the Right One In’. You have been warned but I liked it a lot.

(Saturday 9th March)

Console The Inconsolable

It’s straight back to work on Monday where we both head unshowered because while we were away our brand new boiler failed. The dog sitter is blaming herself but when I get the chaps who installed it out to have a look at it they point to a broken fan. Which they say they can’t fix and we have to place a service call with Baxi. Which we do and they come out to fix it on Tuesday.

Later on Monday, the Lad is at the vets for his booster, which he thoroughly enjoys. He loves meeting people, even vets who about to stick a needle in him. It’s also time to renew his insurance which the insurers won't talk to me about because it’s in L’s name. They refuse to accept that I am called L and I’m non-binary. So I have to get L to give them permission to speak to me.

Keith Flint dies, only days after clocking 21:22 at his local parkrun. If we’re looking for positives in anyone’s death, then that’s not a bad one to go out on.

Tuesday evening brings the match, Derby v Wigan. While I'm at my parent’s house my Mum confesses she’s had another fall. This was a few weeks ago but she has neglected to mention it. That’s where I got that trait from. I leave her with a box of Polish chocolates, I’ve got a nice big block for us.

It’s so thick it’s unbreakable and has to be attacked with a huge chopping knife.

On Wednesday I’m back on the bike which gets very wet on the way home, it’s dog training in the evening and Magenta Devine joins Keith Flint in the past tense. They're dropping like flies.

Thursday sees L kick off a new dog walking regime. She is going to take the Lad out for a pre-walk, so that hopefully he’ll learn to walk better on the lead and it will add a bit extra to his day, while I attempt to console the inconsolable MD while also trying to have a shower at the same time. Then I will take them for their usual park session.

I spend the day up at a meeting in Chesterfield but I’m back in the office in time to do my now usual run home although it’s not exactly perfect running weather. It's very windy and rain is forecast. I could defer it to tomorrow but the forecast looks just as bad tomorrow and colder.

L says she’s happy to pick me up somewhere provided she still makes her tennis. That is if she’s able to drive after her PT session, she claims to have crawled from the last one. I manage my run, without incident.

(Thursday 7^th March)

The Man With The Gun

We fly out to Warsaw with Wizz Air who are quite impressive and seem to know what they are doing. Then starts the beginning of a four day challenge to understand the train network and how you pay to travel on it.

We did think we were getting the hang of it, which seemed to involve buying tickets which are time limited for 20 minutes rather than for a destination, until we got too clever and tried to get on at a different stop. Where we got the wrong platform, bought the wrong ticket, boarded the wrong train and were probably on the verge of getting arrested when the conductor seemed to realise that he really couldn’t be bothered dealing with the incompetent British and lets us off.

We stay in the Holiday Inn, which is very nice and even has its own gym which L insists we try. It’s on the 16th floor, so there’s a pretty good view. Much better than the Nottingham City Council gyms which usually leave you staring at a wall. I’m really impressed by L who puts aside her fear of heights and manages to use all the equipment with her eyes open.

We are here mainly for the UCI Track Cycling World Championships which are held at the BGZ Arena in Pruszków, which is basically a suburb of Warsaw. The Arena is no bigger than Derby’s Velodrome which makes you wonder why we can’t have these sorts of events there. There is a lack of food places at the Arena and the only restaurant, which does 'all you can fit on a plate' for a set price, seems to be packed out with team personnel and officials. We never really figure out if we’re supposed to be in there or not, but we go every day and never get turned away.

Of course we expect to see Team GB bringing home loads of Gold but they let us down badly. Their only goal coming on the Wednesday before we arrived. 

We have three set of tickets, an evening ticket for Thursday and all-day tickets for Friday and Saturday.  Although we don’t spend all day there and on Saturday end up in the embarrassing situation in that everyone is contacting us saying they are looking for us on TV when we’re actually still sat in the hotel.

This was after Saturday’s parkrun. Yes, there always has to be a parkrun. About half an hour from the hotel we found Parkrun Pole Mokotowskie. It was a small event by UK standards but very welcoming and very multinational. The run itself was hard as I had to attempt it without my usual dog power but the fact they had a man bringing up the rear with a rifle (we really have no idea) did stop you slouching at the back.

We find a couple of excellent bars, both Kufle i Kapsle and Ja Beer Wocky serve a mix of Polish and other European craft beers and both have a couple of hand pulls with English beers on.

We even do a bit of sightseeing and go see the old town, vindictively destroyed during the war and painstaking rebuilt since. It's a great city and already on the list for a return visit one day.

(Sunday 3^rd March)

Life's What You Make It

On Monday, an apple and a slice of toast mysteriously disappear off the worktop. On Tuesday, an apple and a tomato mysteriously disappear off the worktop. I’m really not sure L feeds that dog. By Wednesday, L seems to have learnt her lesson.

On Monday I meet a chap from Nottingham City Homes to chat about the damage their lack of gardening next door has caused to our fence. He says it’s our fault for only telling them a year ago rather than two years ago when the problem first became apparent. As they did nothing when I told them anyway, I can’t see how this is a get out clause.

The boys are thrilled to have two people to turn up and kick balls but not so thrilled when we don’t stay long.

Derby are at Forest in the evening and lose. I don’t waste my money by paying to watch it on TV.

On Tuesday Mark Hollis of Talk Talk fame dies. Oh no. That’s very sad and ends my hopes of them reforming. Which was admittedly a distant hope given that he’d given it up performing for his family over 20 years ago.

“Life's what you make it, celebrate it, anticipate it, yesterday's faded, nothing can change it, life's what you make it.”

On Wednesday, I cycle for what is the first time in ages, I’m such a waster. There’s no Dogging in the evening because I go Tuesday instead so that after work on Wednesday we can duct tape the cheese and hide the cake before heading down to Luton Airport where we are staying in the Holiday Inn overnight before flying to Warsaw in the morning.

(Wednesday 27^th February)

The Battle Of Naseby

Today I take part in the Battle of Naseby, originally held on the 14^th June 1645 as the finale to the Civil War between Oliver Cromwell’s lot and King Charles I’s lot. Now re-enacted, of sorts, across 16.45 miles of rolling Northamptonshire countryside. They call it ideal marathon preparation.

The all road route takes in numerous memorials and viewpoints of the battle but as I haven’t packed by guidebook a lot of it passes me by. Anyhow this is all about getting the ideal marathon preparation in.

I record 2:21:51 for the unusual distance, an average of 8:40 per mile. Way below my 8:00 pace at Prestwold but inside my intended 9:00 marathon pace, so probably about where I need to be. Just need to add another 10 miles to it.

It was a pleasant little event despite the orange race t-shirt.

Back at home I book wrong the flights for Norway, getting the return date wrong by 24 hours. Oops. It takes a phone call to sort it out and surprisingly it doesn’t cost me anything.

In the evening we go to Harts Restaurant in Nottingham which is somewhere I’ve never been although L is close to being a regular there through her boss. It is possibly our last chance to experience the restaurant itself which is closing although there will be a new smaller restaurant inside the hotel.

Things don’t start off that well when they leave us loitering in the foyer for ages and then tell us the Seabream is off and has been replaced by cod, which isn’t quite the same. It’s a decent meal though which I round off with a cheeseboard and we share a bottle of red.

Afterwards we pop into the Borlase where they have Buttermuch on.

 

(Sunday 24^th February)

Self-Deprecating Humour

L responds to my query about whether she enjoyed herself at the gym on Friday morning by saying she did but she felt less gym bunny and more gym bag. Ha ha. I do love the self-deprecating humour.

In the evening I offer her a run. Yes, with me! Like the old days, a retro one around our old loop. The Derby Road loop circa 1997. She says she's happy to take the dogs. I say I’m happy to not take the dogs...

We go dog free and it seems to go well. Just like the old days we end up in bed afterwards where we finally break open the bottle of Grey Goose from Christmas.

On Saturday we head over and do Leamington parkrun. L’s done it a few times but it’s the first time Daughter and I have done it. The off road course isn’t as bad as I feared because the ground is very firm. Afterwards we meet Son and his gf for breakfast in the delightfully named Fat Birds Café.

In the evening we do our second Beer Festival in eight days as we head over to the Derby Beer Festival for a ‘moderate’ session. I do have a sixteen and a half mile run tomorrow but this strategy seemed to work quite well at Prestwold last weekend. 

My beers - Brass Castle Saltwater Taffy Brown Bitter 4.5% (N. Yorks), Yeovil Night Train Porter 6.0% (Somerset), Downlands Devils Dyke Porter 5.0% (West Sussex), Double Top Madhouse Porter 5.2% (Notts) and Harbour Puppy Porter 4.6% (Cornwall).

L’s beers - Brass Castle Quench Pale Ale 3.2% (N. Yorks), Black Storm Porter 5.2% (Tyne & Wear) and Brass Castle Saltwater Taffy Brown Bitter 4.5% (N. Yorks).

(Saturday 23^rd February)