Category: Life

This has been a quiet week. It’s the Warrington half marathon tomorrow so I’ve taken a week off exercising to fully rest up for it. It means I’ve had loads of free time to kill, and that the weather has been perfect for training. Obviously.

Last Sunday was my last run. I did the route into Frodsham, up Froddy hill, down the other side for half a mile and then back. 13 very hilly miles. The two mile ascent to the top of the hill is a slow rise followed by a mile straight up. As it’s the halfway point of the run it can be a bit tiring. ‘Train hard, fight easy’, as they say. Wendy and I had been feeling a bit weakened with some bug that was going round. I forced myself to do the run as it was my last chance if I wanted a week’s R&R. Happily, although I felt weak as a kitten driving over there, when I got going I was alright.

I sweated it out, hit the start of the big climb and just pushed through. I nearly killed myself getting to the top of Frodsham hill then tried to get my breath back on the half mile descent. Suddenly my right thigh muscle cramped like a bitch. I tried to ignore it but it was hurting that much I really thought I’d done myself a mischief. I was gutted. The free-speed, easy, reward part of the run was ruined. I had to stop and beat it a bit to try and get it working. Then stretched off. I started again, same thing. The real downer was it was at exactly the halfway point. I couldn’t be any further away from the car. And I had the two mile descent to contend with. So I could either try and run back or limp for hours. I chose to run.

Cancel last. Cancel everything. Momentous things are afoot.

Sod the bike-bus, the camper van and the transfer-to-Cornwall job, I have a new plan; Canada!

Home of the brave, land of the free. Or some such.

I had another go at my Ironlap today.

The bottle dynamo, which I repaired, re-positioned and tested before setting out, failed utterly. Again. I had to keep stopping, putting in the next position on my ‘phone, starting the GPS, and the satnav, seeing where I was supposed to go, then shutting it all down again to save my battery. Then I’d find I’d missed my turn and have to backtrack. And so it went.

That ‘hill’ at 48 miles, that a fellow triathlete described as “a bit of a leg-burner” is an utter nightmare. You wind up a steep hill. (You get to the summit, think ‘YAY!’, whizz to the bottom on the other side then find you’ve missed your turn and have to go back up the hill. After about 50 hard miles. Your tears on the return ascent are hidden by the sweat running off you.)  I was thinking that at least I’d done the worst hill, that now it was just normal roads back to Warrington. Ha! The road that I should have turned on to, Rivington Way (Rivington something) is the nightmare, the preceding climb was just a warm up.

After my bump two weeks ago I was not so good last week.

You have to have confidence you know what you are doing and a sense of what you can do. Like when you are in a car and doing a reverse manoeuvre and there is a post or low wall. You have to hold in your head where the back end of your car is, where it is going to go and where the object would be if you could still see it.

Of course it can be a tad trickier when you can’t see the whole side your 13 metre trailer, or the wall you are trying not to hit, and you have to judge the amount it is going to swing (without reference to the striking point or the point that could be struck).

After the hols last week I thought the works or the agency had got rid of me but it turned out they had just lost my number (along with their mobile.)

Sunday evening they ‘phoned me on the landline and ruined my chi. I was quite looking forward to having Monday off. C’est la vie.

Bright side being, A: it gave me some wages, B: it got me back into driving. You wouldn’t think I’d need a refresher after doing it daily for six months, but at the first island driving away from my works I found I was approaching at car speeds. Not good in a truck. Then on Wednesday I backed into a barrier. Total bummer.