tptb dragoon

Thing to Look Out For When Running

See how many things you can spot in a week's running. This week:

1. A man emerging from a bush wearing wellington boots and carrying a sickle. What's worse is he spoke to me. Scary.

2. A bloke on a bicycle riding very slowly whilst reading a newspaper. Next to him is a rather pissed off looking dog carrying a ball.

3. A woman walking backwards massaging her head.

4. Dog turds. (This one's easy if you run on the grass like me - just look at the underside of your trainers)

Having found my pedometer I can now report the interesting fact that my run is 4387 paces long. But I don't know what the average length of my stride is. However, the interestingly named Wendy Bumgardner (I kid you not) knows. If I estimate 48 inches that means I am doing just better than 10 minute miles which feels right so I am running about 3.3 miles.

Good so far, but I have just looked at a training schedule for running a half marathon and I don't even qualify for their beginner section :-(. I think it's time to measure my running stride more accurately.

The Answer is Fire

I spent most of the day yesterday with Nathan on a cu day our to Phasels Wood near Kings Langley. These are great fun, unless it rains hard for protracted lengths which it forutnately didn't, quite hard work for soft as shite people like me. Karen found my much missed pedometer and it told me I walked 5 miles yesterday. That's not a great deal but it was very tiring nonetheless.

The day starts with Akela, or Arkela or AhrrKayla (if you're Cilla) talking to the cubs.

Then we built fires, shelters, went on a hike, and went on sleds. It's only imple thing but we drank the tea that we made from the heating the water on the fire and ate the potatoes (with egg), bananas, dough twists that we cooked. Additionally, when the rain did come down a little harder actually used the shelters we had made and they worked.

Of course the real point of going on these days is not to spend quality time with your offspring whilst selflessly helping the admirable efforts of the cubs and scout organisers but in fact to what we Dads love to do - light fires. When I was a kid we had regular bonfires which makes me wonder what we found to burn so regularly. We used parrafin to help things along and our eyes streamed from the smoke. The real challenge is to light the thing in the first place of course without resorting to artificial fuel, running boy scouts together instead of sticks or, as I did, pinching a nicely burning log from someone else's fire. When you are tending a fire you forget the whole world. Everything. Even common sense like don't pick up things with your bare hands if they are in the fire.

I think we should have a fire everyweek, outdoors real fires not homey ones in the fireplace. When you look into the flames you will find answers. Like Ronald Regan and Mikhail Gorbachev did on that Spitting Image sketch when it's just the two of them with large brandies sitting in front of a huge fire. Mikhail: "You know, Ronnie? When I look into the flames I see the dawn of a new era. A time of great lasting peace between our two nations. A time of co-operation and safety for out contrymen and their children. What do you see?" Ronnie replies: "Well, I see a little doggie, running across a field..."

Whatever you see, enjoy.

Commitment

Having stuck to my New Year's Resolution and given up my gym membership I finally took up the slightly harder to achieve task of substituting the non-existent gym attendance with something else more challenging a few weeks ago.

And I am pleased to report that I am actually sticking to it. I can now smugly say I am running three times a week for over half an hour each time. I'm the sort of person who has to measure things and so, of course, I time myself and when I have improved, extend the running length. Unfortunately my last three run times were getting slightly worse and I was determined to arrest that trend.

So I woke up this morning feeling OK and ready to drive my pathetic body a little harder until I heard the rain lashing against the windows and the leaves rustling in the trees. I used to notice these fools running along the side of the road in torrential rain as I sped through puddles in my dry car knowing that I had a nice cosy gym where I could run - not that I ever visited it. Now I had to turn myself into one of these people. The rain eased so I set off.

Some days you feel better than others and today I felt good. James Brown hd it right: "I feel good [derna-nana-nana-na] I knew I would [derna-nana-nana-na] ". Five minutes later the skies opened up and soaked me. I had it right as well: "I feel shite [derna-nana-nana-na] I knew I might [derna-nana-nana-na]". Luckily I wear glasses so soon I couldn't see the rain so just polughed on.

When running you get people nodding hello sometimes but mostly people keep their head down. But when it's raining and they are in a waterproof cagoule and under a golf umbrella they all look at you and say hello and smile that pitying smile. Unluckily I am an astute mind reader and so know what they are thinking - bastards.

I knocked 30 seconds off my best time so can't wait until Friday when I plan to run next. Bring on the rain.

Tribble Trouble

What's the difference between triple and treble? No difference but the Enlish language likes having multiple words for the same thing and it is indeed a beautiful thing. Now, Tribbles are a completely different kettle of fish altogether. I believe they were introduced by The Goodies and they are nice pets - no feeding or pooping.

There was a program on The Goodies last night but I fell asleep through it - however I think they said there were 9 series and they weren't repeated. I have trouble believing the second statistic although I am confident that they weren't repeated in recent years. It's classic comedy, albeit a little dated now, and deserves a re-run. Trouble is it's owned by the BBC who have probably burnt it, copied an episode of Eastenders over the top of it or are hanging on to their copyright so tightly that they have white knuckles aso nobody gets a look in. Or all three.

Guest Beer

Pubs often have guest beers and the other evening they were serving 10cc of Judge Dread.

In Loving Memory

Jamil was 8. He was born 6 days later than my son Nathan. They sat at the same table in school and were good schoolboy friends. Jamil was killed in a road accident and the funeral was yesterday. I find it hard to cope in these situations and my weeping at the burial probably didn't help Nathan who then wept uncontrollably. Looking at Jamil's father I felt helpless, distressed. Jamil's mother follows the Islam faith and had amazing courage and control even able to come and console Nathan with her son just recently buried a few minutes earlier.

Unlike Christian burials I have been to, the pall bearers and close mourners, all men, fill the grave using shovels, spades and their hands to move the earth on top of the coffin. Then the rest of us, and there was a huge congregation, moved closer to lay flowers and speak a few words if we felt able.

We all have to come to terms with death and must be strong as well as grieving. My heart goes out to Jamil and Jamil's family. They showed tremendous courage and are blessed with each other's support as well support from the community. May their pain be brief and their happy memories long.

Time for a Picnic

Is it a British thing to want to go out for the day/evening, eat, drink, have fun then go back to your car and set up a picnic in amongst the angry congregated cars that are battling to leave the car park? I suppose it makes sense on occasions but it's just not my kind of thing to eat cucumber sandwiches in a busy car park.

A Day at the Races

Wasn't that a Queen album? Anyway, I went for an evening at Windsor Races courtesy of someone who was doing some hostility, or hospitalisation, or something. The evening got off to a cracking start when we arrived within 400 metres of the course only for the Roy to turn left rather than right and put us at the back of the queue. 50 minutes later we parked. Luckily I had my laptop with me so I kept busy.

I quite like a bit of gambling but it's quite daunting standing there with the race card looking at all the details and taking advice from the people around. "It's a lottery this one, as none of the horses have ever won". Ahh right, so this one's a lottery unlike the next one. The temptation is to stick a tenner on something at long odds and go and get a beer.

We missed the first race and I dithered before the second. So the third race, the 8pm, came up and there were about 12 runners. I settled on the favourite Caustic Wit as it had beaten lots of the others before and had such a sweet name. I got the best odds I could from the bookies (7/2) and watched the race:

Here's the big screen with the time zoomed in:

Here they are running down the slope (there's no slope in fact so It Must Be User Error)

and here is number 6, Caustic Wit, winning.

I thought it particularly nice of all the trackside spectators to salute as it crossed the line. That's £90 for my £20 stake. "Do you know how much that is dear? £70". "Those were the odds were they Basil?". I lost on the other races.

I bring you all this detail so that my stories can be believed as I see there is some doubt as to the voracity of my accounts creeping into the comments around here. Of course the truth is possibly that these aren't my photos and I didn't go...

Sunday Carvery

We went to see my sister-in-law in Clifton and she lives on a lovely square with nice gardens which, pleasingly, are open to the public and not just the residents. With no real plan for the weekend, we arrived at lunch time and looked out across the square to see a tree that had been subject to some chainsaw massacring and left in the form of, well, a phallus with a boil or something.

Sadly, I have to confess at this satge to leaving my camera at home so no pics :-(

We could hear some tapping noices and see a few people in the gardens and so I asked the boys if they wanted to go down and take a look. No way, they weren't interested. So we took a look anyway, of course, and it turns out they were turning a dead tree into this, errm, shape and building a big seat etc. round the base. All were invited to add our carvings preferably taking the form of something other than usually seen carved on tree trunks. We said we'd stop for 15 minutes or so.

The jist of this is that we spent about 4 hours there. We then drove over to another part of Bristol to see someone else and spend the night there. In the morning we got up slowly and decided to come back to Clifton to pick up some things and then drive to Weston Super Mare. We called in on the tree party still at it with their gougers and said we were just staying 10 minutes. 4 hours more and we left. It's was wonderful. A simple community experience making friends, enjoying the sunshine and smiling. Incidentally it was sponsored by one of the neighbours whihc was very generous of her.

We have a big tree stump in our garden so that is going to get "the treatment" if the boys' momentum keeps up!

ishness

"ish" is normally applied to things that don't quite meet the mark. e.g. "How was your meeting?" Answer "It was Ok - ish". It's a sort of modifying downwards of an assessment of something. Hence: stylish. That's how I have determined to use that word from now on. "She's a stylish woman" - ahh yes if you think that combination of string thing/jewels/sunglasses/off-road vehicle in Surbiton is style. Try it and see if it works for you.

Of course there is brandish and vanish etc. but they mess up my point of view so I'll ignore those sort of words.

The Things They Say

Karen, calling downstairs: Nathan, can you come and get dressed please?

Nathan: I can't. I can't open the garlic sausage.

Yep, makes sense.

Your kneebone is Connected to...

Derek gets several mentions in the Falmouth Packet including this rivetting piece of news:

Whatever next? Old woman buys milk and sends letter?

Local News

This is the Falmouth Packet picture competition (I have assumed). It's not cricket but what is it?