Category: Life

I had a bit of a to-do the other day at the gym. It was a storm in a teacup over a parking space. How ridiculous is that? The point of it being, when the big angry chap said “Have you got a problem with that?”  I just tutted and walked away. Usually in such situations it’s me that’s full of rage and up for it. On this occasion I was no more than mildly irritated, which is my default state. It’s not the incident, or even me not engaging, it’s the sudden loss of confidence. If I’d have tutted and walked away rather than get into a fight over such a trivial matter that would have been fine. Walking away because it wasn’t worth getting into a fight, and being scared I was going to get beaten up, that is all together a different matter. Even if I never have to fight I need to feel I don’t have to worry about it. Just for my self-confidence. You reach the venerable old age of 46 and think all that school playground bullshit is behind you. It never is. Back to the martial arts, then. I don’t really have the time to commit to anything else. My on-going obsessions; the sub 3 hour marathon and next year’s Outlaw, are more than enough to occupy my every free moment. However, needs must. I’ve spent days scouring the internet for martial arts classes that I can attend. Most all of them are held in the evenings during the week. When I’m at work, in other words. I’ve finally found a group that holds a one hour lesson in Newton-le-Willows 12.30-13.30 on a Thursday, and a class near Manchester on a Sunday afternoon. It’s two different Sifu’s (Chinese for Sensei, which in turn is Japanese for Sah Bum Nim, which is Korean for Master/ Teacher/ geezer-you-don’t-give-shit-to. You get the picture.) Different classes, but both in Wing Chun, and both under the same umbrella organization, so it’s just one joining fee. Wing chun being the famous style taught by Ip Man to Bruce Lee. Despite what the films say, it is disappointing bereft of head kicks and bad lip-synching. “You want to fight? Fight me!” It’s all about very close quarter fighting using simultaneous defence and attack. Speed and control of the opponent. It’s the one I was doing (at a different club) when that picture was taken on the top of the blog. Anyway, I start that again next Thursday. I’ve cleared it with work to start at 1415 on Thursdays to give me time to get in. Bloody hell. This is not a good time. But it never is.   The running is going to plan, sort of. I’m getting better, but it’s still killing me. I’m up to 4.69 miles in 30 minutes, so I’ve still not cracked the 5 miles but I am edging closer. This week’s big goal is “16 miles steady run, or half marathon race.” I’ll knock […]

Bah! As part of my training plan I entered a 10 mile race for today. On Wednesday I thought I’d best find out where I was running. This involved tracking down the confirmation email. Not an easy task as I ordered it on the old computer and it’s not showing on this one. I finally tracked it down on my ‘phone (which is where I’d forwarded it from my old computer for safe keeping. Then completely forgotten about. Genius.) Yep, 10 mile race, at Stockport. I double checked my training plan, goal for the week: ‘Race 5 miles (30 min) or 10k (40min)’. D’oh! A pox on the French and their new-fangled silly-arse measurement system! I was still going to do it, even though it was pointless (I run a 10 mile course most weeks just to keep my hand in) and set my alarm for it this morning. I got up, and dressed, realised it was raining, freezing and blowing a gale and sacked it. I was still going to go right up until the point when I remembered the website said you had to park 1.3 miles away and get ferried to the start by bus. The thought of standing around before and after the race, freezing my nuts off waiting for a bus, was the straw that broke the fat truckers back. Drive up to Manchester, freeze my arse off, run a pointless race, freeze again, then drive back. Nah. I tried to climb back in bed, but obviously I was wide awake (though still knackered) by then. Ace. I’ll get on Gmaps Pedometer in a bit and mark out an exact course for 5 miles and 10k and run that later. I tried the 5 miles in 30 minutes in the gym on Wednesday, I managed 4.59 miles. Which, my rough maths tells me extrapolates to 6.2 miles (10k) in 40 minutes. If I could have sustained the pace. Hmm, just worked that out as I wrote it. That’s a bit of a big Brucie bonus. I thought I’d just failed. Actually I failed conditionally. I have another week now of catching up on the ‘fast’ week’s goal. The goal for next week is just to run 16 miles at a steady pace or a half marathon race. No biggie. The week after ends with a 15 mile run in less than 2 hours. Cool, two easy weeks. The week after is 10k (that’s 10K, not miles, K!) in 39 minutes. Three weeks to get up to speed then, I’m not far off the pace as it is, it’s just building the stamina to maintain that godawful pace. Oh dear, the week after is 10 miles (Her Majesty’s Imperial miles) in 1:05. That’s huge. On the other hand, not so much. At 6 m/m I’d do it an hour (obviously) and I have already done a 1:08. It’s just I looked at it and thought how hard it was for me to crack 1:15, but that […]

This has been a momentous week; I finally cracked the 3 miles in 18 minutes barrier, then the day after (on tired legs) set a new 10 mile PB on the way to pissing the 12 miles in under 90 minutes task. And I tied my hair back for the first time since I had it all chopped off. To qualify that; I did about 6 minutes warm up (½% gradient) then straight into 10 mph (6 m/m) on the level. I didn’t stop to catch my breath just took the gradient off and whacked the speed up. For the first two miles I was going amazingly well. I was breathing OK, and it was all going suspiciously well. I had to check to make sure I’d got it at the right speed. I was managing so well I was getting cocky and thinking about knocking off 4 miles or so, to prepare me for next week’s challenge, 5 miles at 6m/m. Then about 2.1 miles it hit me. Like a brick in a sock. Then it was just grit your teeth and don’t give in. Extra kudos is due as after the 3 mile sprint I didn’t just stop the running machine, flop and wheeze, I slowed it down to 6.5 mph and got my breath back on the hoof. Anyway, I did it. On a flat treadmill, but I still did it. 10 days ago I was wondering if I was physically capable. The 12 mile run was a bit of a chore with tired legs but I did the 10 miles in 1:08.14 and the 12 in 1:22.15 I had 1:30 to complete it so I had over a mile in the bag. I’m back on schedule for my training plan. I will have to push harder now, but at least I know I can force myself to maintain that pace. Once you’ve done it once you know you can do it. You know how bad it is, but that it is possible. Go me!   Also this week I got my papers through for leaving the T.A.. This surprised me a little. I rather thought they were letting it run until I’d been re-enlisted the requisite 2 years then compulsory draft me to active service. I wasn’t making an issue of getting out as I wasn’t that bothered about the thought of a tour of duty. It’s one of those things; you are tempted to volunteer but don’t. If I’d been ordered to go that would have been fine. Now I have to return my kit and request release from service, or however it’s termed.   Work is a bit of a pain in the arse. They’ve decided I have to share a regular truck with some guy. The trouble is, he doesn’t get back to the yard until at least 45 minutes after I start. Last week I had to wait between 1 – 2½ hours before I could start. I start at 1400, go […]

Ha! Pain is just failure rubbing salt into the wounds. In other words, I’ve still not cracked the 3 miles in 18 minutes. The training schedule started this week, if I’m to fit it in to the races I’ve booked. ie, the big goal for the end of one week is a 10 mile race at a 6 m/m pace, another is a half marathon, etc. This week should have culminated with me doing a nice easy 3 miles at 6m/m. I took two stabs at it this week. Both in the gym so as to give me a constant speed. Both times I managed a mile and a half then had to give up, half dead. The plus side to the gym is the constant speed of the run and not having to cross roads, the negative is the heat. By the time you’ve done the warm up mile you are sweating, then trying to sprint flat out… It kills me. I then go on the exercise bike for a quick spin to break up the lactic acid in my legs. Even just a 15 minute spin at a reasonable level of resistance has the sweat pouring off me. I have to throw a towel over the bike to mop it all up. I’m already dripping from the run, any effort after that is sweat city. The heat! That guy I met who was saying he ran the marathon part of the Lanzarote Ironman in 45 degrees! Seriously, screw that. Anyway, tomorrow morning while it’s still cold, I’m going to take another shot at it. On the road. Anybody getting in my way is going to get trampled. I’ve got to do it. You know you’re giving it your best shot when you eye up an approaching transit van at a roundabout and think “you’re going to have to run me over ‘cos I’m not stopping.” I’m looking at the training programme, the big goal at the end of next week is to run 12 miles in 90 minutes or less. Cool. I can piss that. I did a new PB on the 10 mile run of 1.09 that means I have 21 minutes to stroll the last two miles. Yes, just checked it again. 12 miles, sub 90 minutes. Cool. That gives me another week to to get up to proper pace.  The week after is 5 miles in 30 minutes! Back to the 6m/m pace. Oh dear.   Work is more of the same. I’m getting better all the time. I will crack that 90 degree reverse between two barriers in one attempt. They have cleared out a space at the front now, so you can get it more or less in position then pull forward to straighten it out, then reverse straight back. That takes the challenge out of it, though. Also, sometimes the shunters leave a trailer sticking out in front of the cleared space, so you can’t count on it. Once I’ve cracked this […]

It’s been a while. It’s not like I’ve been that busy except in the field of prevarication, where I’ve been rushed off my feet. I had a week off last week. Wendy was told she had to use her holidays so took a week off, thought I might as well join her. My sister, Lisa, and I went to Wales on the Sunday at the start of my hols to see the parents. It turns out they had not buggered off back to Bulgaria as I thought, merely gone to their rural retreat. It was my first time there, looked like a lovely place to go in Summer. Very quiet and scenic. Loads of lovely, fitness improving hills. Mmmm, hills. Then on the Monday, I texted my timesheet in to work, with the accompanying message saying “don’t forget I’m off this week.” I started to say to Wendy, “Give it a few minutes to check I’m in the clear.” I hadn’t even finished the sentence and my ‘phone was going. They were saying they had someone to cover the rest of the week but could I go in today. In other words the lazy bastards had got my email saying I wasn’t working, done Jack about it and expected me to drag them out of the shit. The thing is, it would have looked bad on me, not the agency, if I hadn’t gone in. Or possibly both. But I have to think about paying my bills. Anywho, I went in. On my hols, on short notice. Not a happy bunny. I picked up my truck and trailer and drove to Crewe (50 minutes away). When I got there they said they had nothing for me, so I should go home. Are you having a laugh? So that was that day ruined for bugger all. Thanks for that. The only bright side is I get paid a minimum of 8 hours if I start a shift.   I went for my first real swim since the Outlaw last year while I was off.  I went for some sea swims when we were in Cornwall, but they weren’t very long or many. I had been putting it off as, well, I hate it, to be frank. I just don’t like swimming. I’m bad at it, it’s hard work and if you get it wrong you can die. The longer you leave it the stronger the aversion gets. In the end it was only because I’ve joined Warrington Tri for swimming lessons and wanted to be sure I wasn’t going to make an arse out of myself by drowning that I went. Turns out it was a big fuss over nothing. I knocked out an hour’s swim without much of a problem. It was slow work but at that pace I could have kept it up all day. Or that’s how it felt at the time. Since I last went swimming in Warrington they’ve opened up a new leisure centre and handed […]