Do we believe Swindon Town manager Paolo di Canio when he says he completed the Swindon Half Marathon by accident? Apparently he was acting as official starter for the Half Marathon and then was due to run in the two-mile fun run but got lost...
Hmmm. He finished the half marathon in 1 hour 49 minutes, which isn’t much worse than my time when I do one on purpose. So I can't believe he did it by accident. Accidentally on purpose more like. He must have trained to run a time like that.
We have a couple of halves coming up but we have loftier ambitions for the beginning of December as we contemplate entering the wonderfully named Percy Pud 10k in Sheffield. Anything to get out of running around Sherwood Forest in the Edwinstowe 10k that weekend and getting a red t-shirt with Christmas trees on it, again, as is tradition.
Percy Pud sounds infinitely better and there’s no mention of a red t-shirt, instead you get a Christmas pudding, which is at least useful. We need to be quick because apparently the race sold out in early October last year.
True enough in between discussing it and getting the entry forms filled in, it’s full. So we still need to find something to keep us away from Edwinstowe.
After a highly successful dog class I collect L from Borrowash where she’s been meeting up with her rival from yesterday for another run, probably a bit of a debrief and hopefully in L’s case a bit of a gloat. Although she’s not really the gloating type.
(Monday 10th October)
Monday, 10 October 2011
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Stress Levels
I drop L at the bus stop at 6:45am with her stress levels reading ‘red’, which is more to do with having to rely on two buses turning up on time and to dovetail together rather than the race itself. The first bus doesn’t even appear on the electronic signs. Some buses do, some don’t. It’s nothing to do with it not being a council bus and the signs being provided by the council of course. Thankfully it is on time, as is her coach to Sheffield. So stress levels falls a little to a kind of deep amber.
While L heads north, I head south to Peterborough, where the weather seems to be fining up after the early rain. In fact it turns out to be another sunny day, at least at the Peterborough Showground.
Up in Sheffield, L claims to be on the front row, of the second batch of starters but even so, that’s nosebleed territory. I’m so proud.
Meanwhile MD continues to frustrate. Beautifully clear for half his first run then a pole goes down, he misses his weave entry, then comes out the damn things completely, twice, then for good measure two more poles down. Faults wise it’s a cricket score and the judge will probably sue us for injury caused by overuse of his arm signalling it all to the scorer.
Second run. MD picks a course with the weaves not only as obstacle number two but also set on the diagonal (which incidentally should not be allowed on this level of course) to release himself before I'm ready. I recover the situation, just, and we storm round clear, yet having wasted several seconds unnecessarily faffing around at the start. We come 19th and oddly get a rosette for that.
So not a great day so far and it's only 11am. Then we sit twiddling our collective thumbs and paws until MD’s final run comes around at about 4pm. I spend some time chatting to the wild life, at what is actually a county show type event.
Then to cap it off a lovely clear from MD on our final run is not ruled lovely by the judge who gave us 5 faults for a see-saw contact that we definitely got. Clearly the judge didn’t agree and he’s entitled to his opinion but then I was a lot closer than him and had the better view of me making sure MD got it. Unfortunately it’s his opinion that counts. We would have been 5th, which wouldn’t have been bad but at least he hasn’t done us out of a win.
Meanwhile Doggo, whose been banned from competing today by the vet, has been ambling around all day, soaking up the concerned attention of everyone and generally having a sniffing good time.
Up in Sheffield L does another 57 minute 10k, so she’s getting very consistent. Now we need to work on getting her to break into the 56s. Her rival for the day is a mere four seconds behind. Blimey. Close then. No wonder she’s straight on the Abbot afterwards as she meets Daughter for lunch.
In the evening it’s my turn on the Abbot as she consoles me in the local.
(Sunday 9th October)
While L heads north, I head south to Peterborough, where the weather seems to be fining up after the early rain. In fact it turns out to be another sunny day, at least at the Peterborough Showground.
Up in Sheffield, L claims to be on the front row, of the second batch of starters but even so, that’s nosebleed territory. I’m so proud.
Meanwhile MD continues to frustrate. Beautifully clear for half his first run then a pole goes down, he misses his weave entry, then comes out the damn things completely, twice, then for good measure two more poles down. Faults wise it’s a cricket score and the judge will probably sue us for injury caused by overuse of his arm signalling it all to the scorer.
Second run. MD picks a course with the weaves not only as obstacle number two but also set on the diagonal (which incidentally should not be allowed on this level of course) to release himself before I'm ready. I recover the situation, just, and we storm round clear, yet having wasted several seconds unnecessarily faffing around at the start. We come 19th and oddly get a rosette for that.
So not a great day so far and it's only 11am. Then we sit twiddling our collective thumbs and paws until MD’s final run comes around at about 4pm. I spend some time chatting to the wild life, at what is actually a county show type event.
Then to cap it off a lovely clear from MD on our final run is not ruled lovely by the judge who gave us 5 faults for a see-saw contact that we definitely got. Clearly the judge didn’t agree and he’s entitled to his opinion but then I was a lot closer than him and had the better view of me making sure MD got it. Unfortunately it’s his opinion that counts. We would have been 5th, which wouldn’t have been bad but at least he hasn’t done us out of a win.
Meanwhile Doggo, whose been banned from competing today by the vet, has been ambling around all day, soaking up the concerned attention of everyone and generally having a sniffing good time.
Up in Sheffield L does another 57 minute 10k, so she’s getting very consistent. Now we need to work on getting her to break into the 56s. Her rival for the day is a mere four seconds behind. Blimey. Close then. No wonder she’s straight on the Abbot afterwards as she meets Daughter for lunch.
In the evening it’s my turn on the Abbot as she consoles me in the local.
(Sunday 9th October)
Saturday, 8 October 2011
Butter Wouldn’t Melt
The patient has his check up this morning which he passes with flying colours. It’s interesting to note that the grumpy old man, who growls at us when we try and inspect his stitches, is bestest pals both with his surgeon and the nurse. They’re all on first name terms and does he growl when they inspect his stitches, oh no, butter wouldn’t melt.
He’s given the all clear but is banned from agility for a further week. Which means no competing tomorrow and no training on Wednesday. I had already decided to retire him anyway, which means at our next event, which probably won’t be until December, I’ll run him in Veterans.
After a trip to the opticians I actually have the rest of the day and evening free... Hmmm... so what happens now then? I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do in situations like this. Chill out and watch TV or something? Not sure I know how to do that. So L and I embark on a bit of a house tidy and take a load of stuff to the tip. Not that we’re trying to expunge any signs of Son or Daughter from the place, perish the thought. We miss them dearly, on occasion.
At the tip, the council seem to totally ignore the WEEE electrical recycling regulations (it’s part of my job to know about these things) and dismantle our old computers (four of them!) and other defunct electric items with a large sledgehammer. I could have done that, saved them the trouble and had some fun into the bargain.
Then it’s pasta and a night in. L has a rather serious run and challenge match tomorrow.
(Saturday 8th October)
He’s given the all clear but is banned from agility for a further week. Which means no competing tomorrow and no training on Wednesday. I had already decided to retire him anyway, which means at our next event, which probably won’t be until December, I’ll run him in Veterans.
After a trip to the opticians I actually have the rest of the day and evening free... Hmmm... so what happens now then? I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do in situations like this. Chill out and watch TV or something? Not sure I know how to do that. So L and I embark on a bit of a house tidy and take a load of stuff to the tip. Not that we’re trying to expunge any signs of Son or Daughter from the place, perish the thought. We miss them dearly, on occasion.
At the tip, the council seem to totally ignore the WEEE electrical recycling regulations (it’s part of my job to know about these things) and dismantle our old computers (four of them!) and other defunct electric items with a large sledgehammer. I could have done that, saved them the trouble and had some fun into the bargain.
Then it’s pasta and a night in. L has a rather serious run and challenge match tomorrow.
(Saturday 8th October)
Friday, 7 October 2011
Goose Fair
I continue my half marathon training by bike.
L has the day off with the boys and has the ordeal of taking them on the park for the first time this week. Which entails much sniffing and weeing to catch up on.
Interesting news in Mansfield with them planning to reopen the Mansfield Brewery. Bet they wish now that they hadn’t demolished it three years ago. It sounds like a good idea though. I don't think there's even a micro brewery in Mansfield. I was going to say what they really need to do is get the Mansfield name back from Marstons, the ones who stole it, but it appears they've already thought of that.
The vet calls with Doggo's test results. His lump was benign, just a mass of overgrowth of collagen and fatty cells. Which means little to me but it's obviously excellent news. Now who’s going to tell him he didn’t need to have the operation.
We celebrate by leaving him at home, still convalescing obviously, and going to the Goose Fair because L says she’s never been. 717 goose fairs and she’s never been? I can’t believe I’ve never taken her but I’m happy to oblige tonight. I went a few times in my younger days but it wasn’t me then, less so now.
One thing’s for sure, it’s got bigger. It now takes over the whole of the Forest Fields site and even spills over into the local streets, which didn’t used to be the case. It's actually nice, in a ‘it’s nice to have a big festival’ sort of way but it’s still not for me.
There are certainly more rides than ever before, over 500 apparently, and even more evil ones than before. Were they really swinging people around in a ball thing on a piece of elastic, fifty plus metres above the ground? Although what seems to account for most of the size increase though is the increase in food outlets from which the smell is not that appetising at all. A kind of burgered candy floss aroma prevails.
It’s also all terribly terribly expensive but this doesn’t appear to be stopping people. Recession? What recession? It stops us though, that and fear. We move on through the attractions onto Mansfield Road and the bars.
First the Forest Tavern and then the Lincolnshire Poacher where Woods Wonderful from Shropshire is accordingly wonderful and much cheaper than a ride in a bungee ball.
(Friday 7th October)
L has the day off with the boys and has the ordeal of taking them on the park for the first time this week. Which entails much sniffing and weeing to catch up on.
Interesting news in Mansfield with them planning to reopen the Mansfield Brewery. Bet they wish now that they hadn’t demolished it three years ago. It sounds like a good idea though. I don't think there's even a micro brewery in Mansfield. I was going to say what they really need to do is get the Mansfield name back from Marstons, the ones who stole it, but it appears they've already thought of that.
The vet calls with Doggo's test results. His lump was benign, just a mass of overgrowth of collagen and fatty cells. Which means little to me but it's obviously excellent news. Now who’s going to tell him he didn’t need to have the operation.
We celebrate by leaving him at home, still convalescing obviously, and going to the Goose Fair because L says she’s never been. 717 goose fairs and she’s never been? I can’t believe I’ve never taken her but I’m happy to oblige tonight. I went a few times in my younger days but it wasn’t me then, less so now.
One thing’s for sure, it’s got bigger. It now takes over the whole of the Forest Fields site and even spills over into the local streets, which didn’t used to be the case. It's actually nice, in a ‘it’s nice to have a big festival’ sort of way but it’s still not for me.
There are certainly more rides than ever before, over 500 apparently, and even more evil ones than before. Were they really swinging people around in a ball thing on a piece of elastic, fifty plus metres above the ground? Although what seems to account for most of the size increase though is the increase in food outlets from which the smell is not that appetising at all. A kind of burgered candy floss aroma prevails.
It’s also all terribly terribly expensive but this doesn’t appear to be stopping people. Recession? What recession? It stops us though, that and fear. We move on through the attractions onto Mansfield Road and the bars.
First the Forest Tavern and then the Lincolnshire Poacher where Woods Wonderful from Shropshire is accordingly wonderful and much cheaper than a ride in a bungee ball.
(Friday 7th October)
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Playing Myself
Doggo is finally deemed fit enough to get a proper walk this morning, which must have been hell for L, what with three days worth of sniffs and wees to catch up on.
We lied about the collar. Doggo gets another day in it, much to MD’s disgust.
I’m on the bike and it's a bit blustery to say the least but it’s what I need, a bit of hard training as I’ve got that half marathon coming up and I can’t run far.
The weather is foul all afternoon, luckily just after we got back from our pub lunch, but fines up by the time I bike home.
L runs to Portland Leisure Centre where I’m playing squash and goes in the gym. I find out that my opponent has had to cancel at the last minute but only after I’ve paid of the court. So I play myself for half an hour before getting bored and heading off to meet L. Well at least I didn’t lose.
Tesco Watch. We decide to skip the pub and head home to open a bottle of wine instead but with the White Hart still shut we couldn’t have gone there for a curry anyway. I hope it doesn't stay shut too long. We know what happens to pubs that stay shut for longer than a couple of weeks. They become a Tesco and there isn't one for at least a quarter of a mile round there, so it's a distinct possibility.
(Thursday 6th October)
We lied about the collar. Doggo gets another day in it, much to MD’s disgust.
I’m on the bike and it's a bit blustery to say the least but it’s what I need, a bit of hard training as I’ve got that half marathon coming up and I can’t run far.
The weather is foul all afternoon, luckily just after we got back from our pub lunch, but fines up by the time I bike home.
L runs to Portland Leisure Centre where I’m playing squash and goes in the gym. I find out that my opponent has had to cancel at the last minute but only after I’ve paid of the court. So I play myself for half an hour before getting bored and heading off to meet L. Well at least I didn’t lose.
Tesco Watch. We decide to skip the pub and head home to open a bottle of wine instead but with the White Hart still shut we couldn’t have gone there for a curry anyway. I hope it doesn't stay shut too long. We know what happens to pubs that stay shut for longer than a couple of weeks. They become a Tesco and there isn't one for at least a quarter of a mile round there, so it's a distinct possibility.
(Thursday 6th October)
Wednesday, 5 October 2011
Another Day In The Lampshade
The ribs are nudging their way up to about 85%, so I'm recovering a bit after my running escapade last night. Although I have considered cancelling squash tomorrow, which was the cause of the problem last week, but cancelling is so far is still at the considering stage...
There’s only eleven days to go to the Cardiff Half, if I’m fit enough. I’ve had my race number for ages but L’s number finally arrives today. So they do want her after all and now I can’t palm mine off on her.
Doggo graciously accepts his collar for what we tell him is one last day. While MD is still jealous that Doggo has a fancy new collar and he doesn’t. Well, perhaps if its Doggo’s last day in the collar then MD can wear it tomorrow.
L says she waved to our giant spider as she left this morning. I think that’s a hint. I keep forgetting to humanely euthanise it, as requested. Although, perhaps I ought to check with Daughter first, after all it used to be her room mate. The spider seemed to emerge only after L started cleaning her way through eighteen years of dirt in Daughter’s bedroom, now that she’s away at university. Eighteen years... and I bet she can return it back to that state in two weeks over Christmas if she puts her mind to it.
I get home and half expert to find the lampshade collar removed and MD skewered on it but no, Lampshade boy is fine. Although he was a bit slow to come to the door. I assume he was stuck on something by his collar again.
Dog training tonight for MD, who again puts his little heart into it, but again without Doggo cheering him on from the boot of the car. Poor Doggo isn’t allowed to play football either. He’s desperate to but he might split his stitches.
(Wednesday 5th October)
There’s only eleven days to go to the Cardiff Half, if I’m fit enough. I’ve had my race number for ages but L’s number finally arrives today. So they do want her after all and now I can’t palm mine off on her.
Doggo graciously accepts his collar for what we tell him is one last day. While MD is still jealous that Doggo has a fancy new collar and he doesn’t. Well, perhaps if its Doggo’s last day in the collar then MD can wear it tomorrow.
L says she waved to our giant spider as she left this morning. I think that’s a hint. I keep forgetting to humanely euthanise it, as requested. Although, perhaps I ought to check with Daughter first, after all it used to be her room mate. The spider seemed to emerge only after L started cleaning her way through eighteen years of dirt in Daughter’s bedroom, now that she’s away at university. Eighteen years... and I bet she can return it back to that state in two weeks over Christmas if she puts her mind to it.
I get home and half expert to find the lampshade collar removed and MD skewered on it but no, Lampshade boy is fine. Although he was a bit slow to come to the door. I assume he was stuck on something by his collar again.
Dog training tonight for MD, who again puts his little heart into it, but again without Doggo cheering him on from the boot of the car. Poor Doggo isn’t allowed to play football either. He’s desperate to but he might split his stitches.
(Wednesday 5th October)
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Run A Minute, Walk A Minute
We go to work and leave Doggo which, because he keeps licking the scar from his operation, means he has to wear the lampshade. Well, the vet actually said we could put a t-shirt on him, but somehow I couldn’t see that working.
So the lampshade it is. If he wasn’t already freaked enough, he will be now with MD laughing at him... or perhaps not. MD actually looks rather hurt and jealous that he hasn’t got one himself. I promise MD that when Doggo is done with it, perhaps he can wear it for a day or two.
Doggo copes admirably with his new attire. Although when I get home it takes him a while to come to the door and I hear numerous 'crashing' noises coming from the kitchen as, I think, the collar collides with various things as he tries to extract himself from under the kitchen table, which is where he likes to sleep.
My ribs, which got re-damaged last week, are now back to about 80%. Most people, I guess, would be off work with that but as I’d rarely describe myself as more than 90% functional, 80% isn’t bad.
The test is can I run home as planned. Nope. My ribs are a pain, literally. I managed about half a mile before collapsing in a metaphorical heap. So I revert to one of those beginners training plans, that they use for events like the Race For Life, run a minute, walk a minute. I soon discover it’s not the running that’s the problem but the breathing. If can hold my upper body still and not breathe then everything is hunky dory. Some ask.
I manage to run/walk all the way to Borrowash, which according to the GPS was 7.6km. After a regroup and a team talk (to myself) on the bus, I get off at Bramcote and run the 5.2 km home from there without stopping. So things are perhaps not as bad as they first appeared. Could I run a half marathon though? As I’m supposed to be doing next Sunday. Hmmm. That’s twelve days away, so I’ll worry about that in due course. In the meantime I think I’ll do the rest of this week’s training on the bike.
When I get home L has gone out for a run too. I hope hers goes better than mine. She has requested something hot and Thai, with coconut milk, for later. So I google that on the internet and having ascertained that she probably does mean food after all, I set about attempting to seduce her with my culinary skills.
(Tuesday 4th October)
So the lampshade it is. If he wasn’t already freaked enough, he will be now with MD laughing at him... or perhaps not. MD actually looks rather hurt and jealous that he hasn’t got one himself. I promise MD that when Doggo is done with it, perhaps he can wear it for a day or two.
Doggo copes admirably with his new attire. Although when I get home it takes him a while to come to the door and I hear numerous 'crashing' noises coming from the kitchen as, I think, the collar collides with various things as he tries to extract himself from under the kitchen table, which is where he likes to sleep.
My ribs, which got re-damaged last week, are now back to about 80%. Most people, I guess, would be off work with that but as I’d rarely describe myself as more than 90% functional, 80% isn’t bad.
The test is can I run home as planned. Nope. My ribs are a pain, literally. I managed about half a mile before collapsing in a metaphorical heap. So I revert to one of those beginners training plans, that they use for events like the Race For Life, run a minute, walk a minute. I soon discover it’s not the running that’s the problem but the breathing. If can hold my upper body still and not breathe then everything is hunky dory. Some ask.
I manage to run/walk all the way to Borrowash, which according to the GPS was 7.6km. After a regroup and a team talk (to myself) on the bus, I get off at Bramcote and run the 5.2 km home from there without stopping. So things are perhaps not as bad as they first appeared. Could I run a half marathon though? As I’m supposed to be doing next Sunday. Hmmm. That’s twelve days away, so I’ll worry about that in due course. In the meantime I think I’ll do the rest of this week’s training on the bike.
When I get home L has gone out for a run too. I hope hers goes better than mine. She has requested something hot and Thai, with coconut milk, for later. So I google that on the internet and having ascertained that she probably does mean food after all, I set about attempting to seduce her with my culinary skills.
(Tuesday 4th October)
Monday, 3 October 2011
Nil By Mouth
Straight after his performance over the weekend Doggo is booked in for an op this morning. So it’s nil by mouth for him this morning. He’s going to have a small lump removed off his rear thigh. It could be a large zit or it could be something more sinister but we thought we best find out. As we have insurance on him, that we’ve never used, we’re having the works. Pre-op blood tests, post-op histology and one of those hilarious lampshade collars, amongst other things. We’ve even probably paid extra for tea and biscuits for when he comes round from his anaesthetic. Custard creams are his favourite, so my mother tells me. He gets no such luxuries here, not to my knowledge anyway.
L ‘volunteers’ (phew) to escort the patient to what he will see as a fate worse than death while I sit at work and chew my nails with stress. By the way, no punctures on the bike today.
Then there’s the resident drama queen to cope with. MD will be so jealous that Doggo gets to go ‘out’ and he doesn’t... if only he knew. When L comes back without Doggo, MD transforms into himself into Mr Pitiful Creature, moping by the front door, waiting for Doggo to return. He’s such a lost dog. First Son goes missing, then Daughter and now Doggo.
So L takes the day off to console him, walk him (a lopsided walk with only one dog) and plays endless games of football with him. Which is better than having him sobbing on her knee all day long.
The patient is home before I get back from work, with everything having gone well, although he still looks a bit woozy from the anaesthetic. Now I have to explain to him that’s he’s really not up to attending training tonight and has to stay home to convalesce. Then I head off with MD, who is equally unkeen to be parted from his buddy but he soon forgets when he meets up with all his pals at training.
(Monday 3rd October)
L ‘volunteers’ (phew) to escort the patient to what he will see as a fate worse than death while I sit at work and chew my nails with stress. By the way, no punctures on the bike today.
Then there’s the resident drama queen to cope with. MD will be so jealous that Doggo gets to go ‘out’ and he doesn’t... if only he knew. When L comes back without Doggo, MD transforms into himself into Mr Pitiful Creature, moping by the front door, waiting for Doggo to return. He’s such a lost dog. First Son goes missing, then Daughter and now Doggo.
So L takes the day off to console him, walk him (a lopsided walk with only one dog) and plays endless games of football with him. Which is better than having him sobbing on her knee all day long.
The patient is home before I get back from work, with everything having gone well, although he still looks a bit woozy from the anaesthetic. Now I have to explain to him that’s he’s really not up to attending training tonight and has to stay home to convalesce. Then I head off with MD, who is equally unkeen to be parted from his buddy but he soon forgets when he meets up with all his pals at training.
(Monday 3rd October)
Sunday, 2 October 2011
The Heatwave Ends
I’m not sure a full English would do L much good pre-race, so the boys have hers instead. We’ll find out if its good agility food or not in due course. It's a later start time today for the team event, so no bolting down breakfast and no problem getting there on time. Although first I drop L in Fleetwood, to make sure she gets there and isn’t at the mercy of the hour long bus journey. Then I hot foot it back to the dog show.
The heatwave appears to be over and now it’s raining. Thankfully I’m indoors; L though isn’t going to be so lucky with her participation in the Twin Piers Blackpool to Fleetwood 10 miler. Having picked up her number from Fleetwood, she has to get the provided coach back to Blackpool from where the race runs mainly along the seafront back to Fleetwood.
The format of the team event is an agility course and a jumping course with the scores from both added together for each dog, with the top four from each club counting. Disaster number one - only 4 of members of our 8 weak team turn up. Great. Dog wise, this means that a 13 dog team is now down to a team of 5, with, as I’ve just mentioned, the top 4 to count. So we might as well go home now.
On the plus side Doggo and MD both record clears on the agility section, whilst another dog records a clear on the jumping section. Good start. Then a fourth dog gets eliminated on both. So 4 from 4 now then. Our fifth dog gets five faults on the agility but goes clear on the jumping. Promising. (Are you keeping up?) Then Doggo goes clear in the jumping, it’s an easy course, so he was always likely to. For the same reason MD probably won’t, he’ll just go too fast and fell everything but so far, team wise, things aren’t looking too bad. Five clears, and one five faults with two to run. We won’t win but at least it’ll be respectable.
Then as I queue up for the jumping with MD, thinking it’s all up to us, I’m told our teenager, whose excellent dog should have coped easily with the agility, has forgotten to do his run. Thereby taking down any remaining hopes for the team with him. He shrugs it off in the way that teenagers do. Hundreds of miles travelled and much money spent to get here and he misses his run. Then again at least he’s here.
There’s not much need to be clear now with MD so we might as well go for the win but 2 poles down puts paid to that. His earlier agility run though was excellent, so we should at least get a rosette. I head off to Fleetwood to collect L, who’s sitting in a bus shelter... in her words ‘looking like wino’, planning to get back in time for the presentations.
A drenched L has run almost a recent best for 10 miles in the race, bravo, and she’s not even fit. I feel kind of guilty for abandoning her, although she seems happy enough, still grinning from ear to ear after her good time and it is probably quite dry in the bus shelter.
We return to the dog show just as they’re doing the results for MD’s grade in the agility. As they work their way through the top ten down to the trophies for the top three there’s no mention of us and I’m about to go complain because surely there must be some mistake because we were easily quick enough to get a top ten placing. Then suddenly they announce my name and MD’s. We’ve won, wow, wasn’t expecting that.
Not such good news for the team though, who come 11th or to give it its proper term, last.
Time to hit the M6 again, hopefully a little less busy this time. Which it is but not by that much. Still we’re home in time for one or two in the local before closing time.
(Sunday 2nd October)
The heatwave appears to be over and now it’s raining. Thankfully I’m indoors; L though isn’t going to be so lucky with her participation in the Twin Piers Blackpool to Fleetwood 10 miler. Having picked up her number from Fleetwood, she has to get the provided coach back to Blackpool from where the race runs mainly along the seafront back to Fleetwood.
The format of the team event is an agility course and a jumping course with the scores from both added together for each dog, with the top four from each club counting. Disaster number one - only 4 of members of our 8 weak team turn up. Great. Dog wise, this means that a 13 dog team is now down to a team of 5, with, as I’ve just mentioned, the top 4 to count. So we might as well go home now.
On the plus side Doggo and MD both record clears on the agility section, whilst another dog records a clear on the jumping section. Good start. Then a fourth dog gets eliminated on both. So 4 from 4 now then. Our fifth dog gets five faults on the agility but goes clear on the jumping. Promising. (Are you keeping up?) Then Doggo goes clear in the jumping, it’s an easy course, so he was always likely to. For the same reason MD probably won’t, he’ll just go too fast and fell everything but so far, team wise, things aren’t looking too bad. Five clears, and one five faults with two to run. We won’t win but at least it’ll be respectable.
Then as I queue up for the jumping with MD, thinking it’s all up to us, I’m told our teenager, whose excellent dog should have coped easily with the agility, has forgotten to do his run. Thereby taking down any remaining hopes for the team with him. He shrugs it off in the way that teenagers do. Hundreds of miles travelled and much money spent to get here and he misses his run. Then again at least he’s here.
There’s not much need to be clear now with MD so we might as well go for the win but 2 poles down puts paid to that. His earlier agility run though was excellent, so we should at least get a rosette. I head off to Fleetwood to collect L, who’s sitting in a bus shelter... in her words ‘looking like wino’, planning to get back in time for the presentations.
A drenched L has run almost a recent best for 10 miles in the race, bravo, and she’s not even fit. I feel kind of guilty for abandoning her, although she seems happy enough, still grinning from ear to ear after her good time and it is probably quite dry in the bus shelter.
We return to the dog show just as they’re doing the results for MD’s grade in the agility. As they work their way through the top ten down to the trophies for the top three there’s no mention of us and I’m about to go complain because surely there must be some mistake because we were easily quick enough to get a top ten placing. Then suddenly they announce my name and MD’s. We’ve won, wow, wasn’t expecting that.
Not such good news for the team though, who come 11th or to give it its proper term, last.
Time to hit the M6 again, hopefully a little less busy this time. Which it is but not by that much. Still we’re home in time for one or two in the local before closing time.
(Sunday 2nd October)
Saturday, 1 October 2011
Rather Good
First problem, breakfast. The landlady usually does it for 9am but I need to be at the show for 8.15 and it’s half an hours drive away. I request breakfast at 8am, which is still too late but I don’t want to push my luck too much. I’m happy to arrive late at the show if it gets me a full English. I’ve only got one early course, for MD, and we’ll just have to ‘wing and a prayer’ that without walking it beforehand.
We arrive at the show about an hour late but with a cooked breakfast inside us, well, just toast for the boys. They are competing after all. It’s hot outside and like a sauna inside the equestrian centre. I don’t think I’ve ever been here when it’s not been cold and raining, or snowing but it’s good to see some things don’t change and there’s still muddy puddles here even mid heatwave.
Things start well. 2 runs, 2 clears. One for each of the boys, including the one with MD that I didn’t arrive in time to walk. It all slides a bit downhill from there.
If that’s the old man’s last G6 before he hangs up his collar then it wasn’t the best. He missed his dog walk contact. We don’t want any of that in the team event tomorrow. Meanwhile MD has poles down in all three of his remaining runs.
The thing is though, MD’s first run, the one I didn’t recce beforehand because I valued by full English more, was rather good. A cracking run in fact. If we hadn’t done a rather unnecessary pirouette in front of the weaves because he really didn’t see them and I had to pull him round in a circle to launch him at them a second time, I’m sure we would have won. That must have cost us at least .6 of a second if not more. I mention .6 of a second because that is how much the winner beat us by. We came third.
And our prize is... one of the much derided glass paperweights that we keep getting from running races, only this one has an agility tunnel inside it.
Meanwhile L checks out Fleetwood, crowd free but an hour away by bus, although only 7 miles, so it would have been quicker to run, which she’s doing tomorrow by the way. She also hits the swimming pool, it's not long until her next open water swim, if it’s on.... Then she manages to find some room on the prom where she waits for us. This must be the lull before the evening rush, although it’s still heavily congested with orange shirts, mainly XXL, with Wonga on the front. Blackpool FC are clearly at home and doing far better today, a 5-0 win, than Derby, a 4-0 loss.
We don’t even attempt to do the sights tonight and head inland instead and find a decent pub about a mile in, with a good choice of beers and half decent food. Still a few orange shirts around but less tourists and no karaoke.
(Saturday 1st October)
We arrive at the show about an hour late but with a cooked breakfast inside us, well, just toast for the boys. They are competing after all. It’s hot outside and like a sauna inside the equestrian centre. I don’t think I’ve ever been here when it’s not been cold and raining, or snowing but it’s good to see some things don’t change and there’s still muddy puddles here even mid heatwave.
Things start well. 2 runs, 2 clears. One for each of the boys, including the one with MD that I didn’t arrive in time to walk. It all slides a bit downhill from there.
If that’s the old man’s last G6 before he hangs up his collar then it wasn’t the best. He missed his dog walk contact. We don’t want any of that in the team event tomorrow. Meanwhile MD has poles down in all three of his remaining runs.
The thing is though, MD’s first run, the one I didn’t recce beforehand because I valued by full English more, was rather good. A cracking run in fact. If we hadn’t done a rather unnecessary pirouette in front of the weaves because he really didn’t see them and I had to pull him round in a circle to launch him at them a second time, I’m sure we would have won. That must have cost us at least .6 of a second if not more. I mention .6 of a second because that is how much the winner beat us by. We came third.
And our prize is... one of the much derided glass paperweights that we keep getting from running races, only this one has an agility tunnel inside it.
Meanwhile L checks out Fleetwood, crowd free but an hour away by bus, although only 7 miles, so it would have been quicker to run, which she’s doing tomorrow by the way. She also hits the swimming pool, it's not long until her next open water swim, if it’s on.... Then she manages to find some room on the prom where she waits for us. This must be the lull before the evening rush, although it’s still heavily congested with orange shirts, mainly XXL, with Wonga on the front. Blackpool FC are clearly at home and doing far better today, a 5-0 win, than Derby, a 4-0 loss.
We don’t even attempt to do the sights tonight and head inland instead and find a decent pub about a mile in, with a good choice of beers and half decent food. Still a few orange shirts around but less tourists and no karaoke.
(Saturday 1st October)
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